Human Read Online Free Page A

and sleep, returning early each morning, to tempt K32’s appetite with fruit and cups of water, mostly unsuccessfully. Liam busied himself with the unpacking and care of the others, grateful that Ivy was willing to stay.
    Gradually, the bonobo seemed to become accustomed to her presence. As Ivy daydreamed against the steel bars on the fifth afternoon, she realised that K32 had left her open crate. When dusk descended, the bonobo had moved closer still. It was so gradual, Ivy barely noticed. Finally, there was nothing between them but unforgiving metal bars. Ivy reached her hand up to curl around the steel. Painfully slowly, with her eyes to the ground, K32 copied her. As the bonobo’s long fingers curled over Ivy’s, the metal underneath seemed to melt away.
    From a memory long buried, Ivy finally found it. The perfect name.
    “Kyah,” Ivy whispered. “You aren’t a number anymore. You’re Kyah.” Ivy repeated it softly, over and again. Eventually, Kyah looked up. An immense sadness within her deep, brown eyes made Ivy's heart ache. Kyah pushed her fingers through the bars towards Ivy's face. Ivy covered them with her own.
    For the first time in what seemed like forever, she wasn't alone.
    From that moment on, they had been inseparable. For two years now, Ivy had become surrogate mother to the bonobo who had been orphaned so many years before. Her socialisation and behaviour had improved dramatically. Now ten years old, Kyah was Ivy’s clandestined companion around campus, occasionally seen loping by her side through the grounds at dusk and spending countless hours playing in the enclosure. Others found refuge here, as an intermediate hospice between rescue and retirement. Long-term placement in rehabilitation facilities and zoos were scarce, so a small number of chimps stayed as permanent residents, observed for behavioural studies. Working closely with dedicated keepers, they learnt symbols and words with varying levels of success. Kyah quietly observed their lessons, sitting apart while the humans invaded her living space. Although she was never taught the lexicons directly, Kyah knew many of them and frequently drew them on the concrete floor in chalk to emphasize what she wanted from Ivy. Sandwich, tickle, yellow rope, quiet…
    With years of abuse still etched in her memory, her quiet and anxious manner would trust no one but Ivy. Her head twitched sharply to the left, a nervous habit she developed in her solitary infancy. This was accompanied by a tendency to pick at her chest, leaving tiny scratches scarring her heart.
    “You'll need antiseptic on that,” Ivy said breaking out of her reverie, as she watched Kyah picking once again at her inflamed chest. Ivy retreated to the locked first aid cabinet where she found not only Kyah’s medication, but also a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. The word ‘matchstick’ was scrawled on the top. Tearing it open excitedly, Ivy caught her breath. It was a book. Ancient, fragile and well read, but solidly bound. ‘ On the Origin of Species’ was printed in faded gold lettering down the spine, ‘1883 edition’ . A lump caught in her throat as she touched it reverently. You’re too much sometimes, Liam, Ivy thought. She tucked it carefully inside her jacket and walked back into Kyah’s cage.
    Leaping above her in the maze of ropes and ladders, the three other residents hooted playfully to each other. Kneeling in front of her on the floor, Ivy smeared antiseptic across Kyah’s scratched chest. The bonobo’s body stiffened with the sting but she didn't strike out. Of all the staff that cared for her, only Ivy was trusted to administer her medication.
    Kyah curled affectionately into Ivy's lap and then changed her mind. She picked up a yellow stick of chalk lying nearby. In wide strokes on the concrete floor, Kyah presented Ivy with her request. See birds now. Tree.
    “I’ll get you out of here this afternoon Ky,” soothed Ivy taking her hand, “I promise