Lost Worlds by Andrew Lane Page B

website now.’
    ‘Almast?’ Gecko and Tara asked at the same time.
    He waved his hand in an apparent attempt to indicate that the information wasn’t important. ‘It’s the name given by the people in Georgia to a local legendary creature that
looks like a cross between an ape and a human.’
    ‘“Georgia” as in the southern state of the USA?’ Tara asked.
    Calum shook his head. ‘“Georgia” as in the former Soviet republic, bordered by Russia, Turkey, Armenia and Azerbaijan. The Almasti are supposed to live in the South Caucasus
Mountains,’ Calum went on, ‘which are generally taken to be the division between Europe and Asia. Some people have thought for a while now that the Almasti legends might be a kind of
local memory of a tribe of some kind of primitive prehumans still living in isolation – Neanderthals, or something similar. I’d never taken the stories seriously until someone uploaded
a photograph to a file-sharing site.’
    He tapped on the wireless keyboard, and a blurry photograph appeared on the multiple-screen array. Gecko stared at it, fascinated. Just like Calum had said, it seemed to show a creature that was
somewhere between chimpanzee and human, caught in an unguarded moment as it was walking between two boulders on a sloping patch of ground.
    ‘Incredible,’ he breathed.
    ‘You’ve checked for artefacts?’ Tara asked.
    ‘Artefacts?’ Gecko asked.
    ‘Traces in the data showing that it’s been manipulated,’ she answered. ‘Hard edges, pixelation, mismatching contrast and saturation levels, that kind of thing.’
    ‘I checked,’ Calum said. ‘The image is completely undoctored, as far as I can tell. That figure you can see in the photograph was actually there, on that hillside.’
    Tara gazed critically at the screens. ‘Could have been a man in a suit.’
    ‘Unlikely,’ Gecko found himself saying. ‘Look at the way the weight is thrown back. Look at the relative length of the forearms compared to the upper arms. If that’s a
man, then it’s a man with severe muscular and skeletal issues.’
    ‘And you’re an expert on the way people stand?’ Tara asked scornfully.
    ‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘I’m a free-runner. I know more about human anatomy and the way it works than most medical students. I have to. For me it’s a matter of
survival.’
    ‘So, we’re agreed that it’s a real image,’ Calum said. ‘The question is: what do we do about it? If you’d asked me an hour ago, I would have said that
I’ll try to raise interest and funding through my website for an expedition to Georgia to look for the Almasti, but that could take years to arrange. If Nemor Incorporated
is
sniffing
around, then they could get people out there within a few weeks. And if they find the Almasti, then the consequences could be catastrophic.’
    ‘They’ll stop any information reaching the public,’ Tara said bleakly. ‘They’ll probably take as many of the Almasti as they can and lock them up in cages in a
laboratory. They’ll treat them like animals while they take samples of blood, spinal fluid and bone marrow for testing. If the Almasti do exist, then they should be celebrated, not
incarcerated.’
    ‘They should be allowed to live free,’ Gecko said quietly. ‘Out in the open. Not in cages.’
    Tara’s expression was fierce. ‘We need to do something.’ She stared challengingly at Calum. ‘You swear that you don’t want to harm the Almasti?’
    He nodded soberly. ‘If they exist . . .
if
they exist . . . then all I want to do is to get some photographs, take some cell samples and make sure that they’re not in the way
of any forest clearance or dam-building programmes.’
    ‘And you’re not going to turn them into a tourist attraction?’ Gecko asked.
    ‘Quite the reverse – I want to protect them from any interference from the outside world, no matter how well-intentioned.’
    ‘And these cell samples.’ Tara was still staring at Calum. ‘How