Lost Worlds by Andrew Lane Page A

do that’s attracted the interest of these
Nemor people?’
    Calum opened his mouth to explain, but Gecko stopped him with an upheld hand. ‘Hey, can I do this one? Just to see if I understand it properly?’
    Calum shrugged. ‘Knock yourself out.’
    ‘Right.’ Gecko turned back to Tara. ‘Your man here is a one-person ecology project, but he is not interested in cuddly pandas or the like. He is trying to locate and protect
species that either science doesn’t know about, or that science thinks are already extinct.’
    ‘That much I got from a quick scan of his website.’ Tara raised an eyebrow. ‘I guess the question is:
why
?’
    Gecko glanced at Calum, who nodded. ‘Because there might be stuff in their DNA that could cure diseases, or help us in other ways.’
    ‘And,’ Calum added, ‘because it would be a tragedy if a species died out due to global warming or endemic pollution without us even knowing that it was there.’
    ‘Even though it might be a really small beetle, or some kind of ugly, spiky fish or something,’ Gecko continued. At Calum’s frown he went on: ‘Hey, be honest – not
all creatures are as cute as pandas.’
    ‘And that’s half the problem.’ Calum shrugged. ‘There’s definitely a pecking order in cryptids.’
    ‘Cryptids?’ Tara asked.
    ‘Animals that are just rumours, or just legends. Everyone wants there to be a plesiosaur in Loch Ness, or pumas living wild in Hampshire, but it’s the unknown stick insect in Bolivia
that’s more likely to have genetic material that can be used for the benefit of mankind.’
    ‘That’s exploitation,’ Tara said firmly. She seemed to sit straighter on the sofa, and her face took on an aggrieved expression. ‘Nobody owns the DNA of another creature.
We all own the rights to our own genetic material.’
    ‘Even ugly, spiky fish?’ Gecko asked.
    ‘
Especially
ugly, spiky fish,’ she responded angrily.
    Whoops, Gecko thought, that obviously hit a nerve. Maybe she thinks of herself as a spiky fish. Best leave that analogy well alone in future.
    Calum held up a hand. ‘Look, nobody in this room wants to exploit these creatures. I know what you mean – there are some companies out there who, if they can genetically sequence a
newly discovered creature, will try to copyright all the data and then use it to create new drugs and new medical treatments so they can make a profit. And they’ll stop anybody else from
benefiting. That’s just wrong.’ He shook his head. ‘No, if a new creature is discovered, then its DNA should be sequenced and released as widely as possible so that everyone can
benefit from it. And the population of creatures has to be protected from deliberate theft and from environmental pressures. All of that is fundamental.’
    ‘So who gets to do that genetic sequencing?’ Tara asked. ‘It’s not like you can buy the kit down at Maplin. Big biotech companies already have the equipment, ready and
waiting, but they aren’t well known for their acts of charity.’
    Calum shrugged. ‘Universities are the best option, especially if they’re incentivized with a grant from an outside body.’ He raised his hands to forestall Tara’s
immediate objection. ‘A no-strings-attached grant, of course.’
    ‘Do you think,’ Gecko asked, ‘that this Nemor Incorporated might be one of those companies? Do you think they might be wanting to copyright and own some of that DNA that is
wandering around out there waiting to be discovered, and they do not appreciate your desire to make the information freely available to everyone?’
    That thought effectively killed the conversation for a few moments.
    ‘That hadn’t occurred to me,’ Calum said slowly. ‘You think that Nemor might want to get a head start on finding, capturing and exploiting any cryptids that get
discovered?’
    ‘It is a thought.’
    ‘Quite a disturbing one.’ Calum shook his head. ‘I wish I hadn’t put the Almast photograph up on the