Elefant. Jamie Bulloch
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placed his briefcase on the floor beside the armchair. ‘I’m looking for a surrogate elephant mother.’
Pellegrini smiled. ‘You mean an elephant cow for artificial insemination. You could have told me that over the phone. It’s no secret that we do this.’
‘But in this instance it needs to remain one. You see, we’re not talking about artificial insemination.’
Pellegrini looked at him expectantly.
‘It’s a blastocyst transfer. We place a 0.2 millimetre embryo directly into the womb.’
‘And?’
‘It’s a genetically modified blastocyst.’
‘Oh, I see. Would you like a coffee?’
‘I’d love one.’
Pellegrini went over to the espresso machine on the chest of drawers. ‘Lungo or espresso?’
‘Espresso please, black, no sugar. Don’t you want to know how?’
Pellegrini took a capsule, placed it in the machine and waited for the espresso to pour out. ‘You mean how it’s been genetically modified?’
Roux nodded.
Pellegrini made himself an espresso too, put both cups on the coffee table and sat down. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I don’t want to know how. I don’t even want to know that it has been.’
‘I understand.’ Roux was fine with that. He wasn’t going to tell Pellegrini the truth anyway. He would have said he was working on a project to make elephants resistant to herpes. Elephant herpes was one of the most common causes of death among Asian elephants in captivity.
‘There’s another issue,’ Pellegrini now explained. ‘Rupashi is pregnant, so is Sadaf, Trisha is breastfeeding and Fahdi is a bull.’
Roux realised that this was all about the price. He’d done his homework beforehand: the fourth cow, Asha, was available. She was also the most experienced. ‘What about Asha?’ he asked innocently.
‘Asha is reserved,’ Pellegrini came back quickly.
‘Is that a binding commitment?’
‘Sort of.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing’s been signed yet. But we made a verbal agreement.’
‘Given the special nature of our project, we’d be prepared to go above the usual rate.’
‘Who is we?’
‘Me and the international group that’s behind me.’
‘May I know which group?’
‘No, but I can assure you that they are a most solvent partner.’
Pellegrini nodded. Then sighed. ‘Turning down our other clients would have a very negative impact on any future projects with them.’
‘Well, of course we’d take this into account,’ Roux assured him.
‘As well as the fact that the project is secret, I assume. An additional complication.’
‘Naturally.’
Pellegrini took Roux to the animal tent to show him Asha, the elephant cow who was a possible surrogate mother.
It was quiet in the stalls; the only sounds were the occasional snort from a horse and the rustling of hay that the elephants were eating. Asha was the furthest away in the elephant pen. An Asian keeper was standing beside her, feeding her carrots and talking softly to her in a foreign tongue.
‘May I introduce Kaung, our elephant-whisperer? Kaung, this is Dr Roux. He wants to borrow Asha as a mother for his baby.’
Kaung put his palms together in front of his face and bowed. Roux nodded, gave him a ‘Hello’ and turned back to Pellegrini.
It was already getting dark when Pellegrini went to get changed for the performance. The bad-tempered woman was garishly made up, and sitting at the evening box office, waiting for the first spur-of-the-moment customers.
18
The same day
Kaung’s father had been an oozie too, as had his father. They lived near Putao, in the very north of his country, and worked in logging camps. At the age of five Kaung was already riding a bull elephant that dragged teak trunks weighing tonnes.
When he was eleven Kaung ran away, and after months of roaming the country he ended up as a boy monk in a Buddhist monastery to the north of Mandalay. He was a good pupil and was sent to university.
On 8 August 1988 he took part in the demonstrations against government oppression, which later became known as the 8888 Uprising. The military killed thousands of people and tortured tens of thousands more.
Kaung managed to flee, making his way across Laos to Thailand, where in Bangkok he signed up on a freighter under the Liberian flag.
It wasn’t until summer 1990 that he dared go ashore. Kaung jumped ship in Rotterdam and applied for asylum, which he was granted on account of the situation in Myanmar.
More difficult was finding work. He had to draw a veil over his dream of continuing his studies and becoming a teacher. Eventually he managed to get a job as an assistant in a circus, where they found out how good he was with elephants and from then on employed him as an elephant keeper.
After two years the Dutch circus sold two of its elephants to Paolo Pellegrini. Kaung accompanied the animals on the journey and was scheduled to spend the first two weeks with them, but Paolo Pellegrini immediately recognised the skill the oozie had with elephants and made him an offer. Although it was scarcely more generous than his Dutch wages, the food was better, the accommodation more decent and he was treated with respect. Kaung accepted.
He’d been looking after the Circus Pellegrini elephants ever since. And since the sudden death of Paolo Pellegrini, he’d also been responsible for training them behind the scenes.
19
Romania
29 October 2013
Ashok stood serenely in the area in front of the elephant pens. His right hind leg and left front leg were tied with rope.
Ashok’s mahout held the bull’s trunk and comforted him with some words. Beside the animal an assistant was waiting with a fishing net on a pole. The net was covered with a plastic bag.
The young man behind the elephant was standing on a solid platform. He wore a plastic apron, arm-length surgical gloves and was removing dung from the animal’s rectum. When it was empty an attendant handed him a hose with which he flushed out the rectum. Then he inserted his arm up to the elbow and started kneading and massaging the prostate.
Ashok patiently allowed all this to happen. It wasn’t his first time; he was a trained sperm donor – the pride of a small zoo in provincial Romania.
The grey penis slowly grew from the wrinkly foreskin. The young man on the platform doubled his efforts and the S-shaped penis became erect to its full length of two metres. ‘Get ready to receive!’ the man gasped.
The assistant held the collection bag on the long pole at the end of the penis and caught the sperm that came flowing out soon afterwards.
A lab technician poured it into a glass specimen jar, added the nutrient solution and a little glycerine, to protect the cells against the sharp ice crystals. He labelled the jar ‘Roux/Gentecsa’ and placed it in a freezer that gently chilled the contents down to minus 196 degrees. Twenty minutes later he put it in the steam of a liquid nitrogen container.
20
Zürich