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it had somehow found
his
pulse.
    “Surrender, Detective. You must surrender,” the old man barely uttered, then coughed.
    The nurse was instantly there. “That’s enough, Detective. He needs to rest now,” she said firmly.
    Buck put his hand on Gavin’s and opened his eyes wide, leaning toward him. “Samantha. You need to protect her from Krogan.
     You need to protect yourself. You must pray, you must… surrender,” he said, then closed his eyes and settled back.
    He died! Did Buck die?
No, the rhythmic blip and beep of the monitor told him otherwise.
    “You’re done, Detective,” the nurse said and meant it.

5
    I ’m sorry, Susan, but did you say ‘rat’?” Kormoski asked.
    “Yes, sir. Any other giant tortoise in the world would look upon a rat as nonthreatening and would completely ignore it. Being
     herbivores, they certainly would not consider a rodent to be food. Consequently, rats are not afraid of tortoises and haven’t
     been for millions of years.”
    Kormoski nodded knowingly, then looked at Lester Davis to see if he had any reaction to this strange demonstration.
    Davis had nothing to say. At this point he would gladly fabricate a lie to keep Jeremy under his care, but what possible explanation
     could he offer? Certainly not the truth. To speak the truth would mean he would find
himself
in an isolation cage.
    At that moment Cocchiola’s radio sounded.
    “Is the door clear?” asked a female voice.
    Cocchiola brought the small black radio to her mouth. “He’s in his usual corner.”
    A door that blended in perfectly with the rear of the isolation cage opened. Karen, one of Susan Cocchiola’s young veterinary
     assistants, stepped inside and shut the door behind her, keeping a watchful eye on the tortoise in the rear corner of the
     cage. Karen was petite with several shiny silver earrings in each ear and short blue hair. She had been on staff for only
     about three months. She briskly moved away from the tortoise to the middle of the cage,carrying with her what appeared to be a shoebox. Crouching down to the floor, she opened the box and emptied out a large white
     rat that had originally been planned as a meal for the snakes.
    Jeremy the tortoise, who had not taken his eerie glare off Kormoski the entire time, suddenly moved forward.
    Cocchiola used her radio. “Come over near us, Karen. I don’t want you to distract Jeremy.”
    Karen immediately complied, hurrying to the thick glass wall that separated her from the three onlookers outside the cage.
    The rat moved quickly back and forth across the barren sandy floor, sniffing, scurrying, stopping, sniffing. Jeremy continued
     to move toward it, punching the sand as he advanced, his neck long and his head high and bold.
    “How is that big clumsy tortoise going to catch that fast little rat?” Kormoski asked with a smirk.
    “That’s just it, sir. You’ll find that when Jeremy attacks—and I do mean
attacks
—he will demonstrate a speed and agility completely foreign to his species.”
    “And you think it’s stress?” Kormoski massaged his goatee again.
    “I don’t know what it is, but he will demonstrate a rage more like a crocodile than the docile tortoise he’s supposed to be.”
    “A crocodile, Susan?” Kormoski mused, giving her a brief glance.
    “You’ll see.”
    All Lester Davis could do was pray. He knew stress had little to do with Jeremy’s behavior and at the moment was not the least
     concerned for the rat and Cocchiola’s little demonstration. He had seen Jeremy attack other tortoises and living reptile food
     for the last two years. But now Jeremy had an audience that would be able to separate him from his guardian. Yes, the tortoise
     had bigger things on its mind than a simple rat.
    Jeremy stopped at the white rodent, still staring at his spectators.The rat, busily darting its wiggling nose in every direction, seemed naturally unconcerned with the large rocklike mass standing
     over it.
    Davis closed his