Page 38 of The Voice of Wild Places
He asked Cornelius about it, and after a moment of squinting at the sign Cornelius whispered, “Don’t throw any objects into the serpentarium.”
Close enough.
One of the scientists used a long pole that had a hook on the end to ferret a snake out of one of the mounds, then pressed the curve of the hook to the base of the snake’s head before scooping it up with practiced ease, fingers secured where the hook once had been.The snake curled and writhed immediately, thrashing its body this way and that.
It was downright pissed off, and for good reason.The scientist wasn’t harsh, but he wasn’t kind either.Yes, it was a snake, but still.Watt shifted in place, and noticed that Cornelius had taken a step behind him.He could still see the snake, but had room to hide if necessary.
Watt made a mental note to keep an eye on Cornelius for the rest of this endeavor.The man was too stubborn to say enough was enough.
Cornelius was sickly fascinated by the drops of venom as they rained down like tears from a perfect set of extended fangs.Only a few drops of the stuff had been enough to completely change the course of his life, and nearly end it.It seemed impossible that something which appeared so much like water could be so deadly.His fingers ached from where they curled around his cane, but he couldn’t relax his grip no matter how hard he tried.His leg had been in a flare up due to all the traveling, and the stress didn't help.
After the venom was milked, it had to be processed.They were shown vials of previously processed venom, then the scientists brought them outside for another demonstration.There was a sort of makeshift stall outside, square in shape and accompanied by horse shit.A thin horse with a dull coat was brought out from the nearby stables, and it balked upon reaching the stall.It refused to go in, clearly familiar with whatever came next.It threw its head, and the whites of its eyes showed as it chuffed and complained.
Two men forced it into compliance.The one leading the horse stood on the opposite end of the stall and pulled on the rope while the other swung a crop, skimming the horse’s gaunt flank but not making hard contact.It took a couple of minutes and ultimately the use of a twitch to get the horse into position, and by then Cornelius’ teeth were set firmly on edge.He leaned hard against his cane, folding one hand over the other.
“Doesn’t that hurt the horse?”Watt asked Severino, nodding to the twitch snugged around the horse’s upper lip.Watt was tense too, standing close enough to Cornelius that his presence was palpable.
“No, not on the lip.If it were the ear, yes.But the pressure provides a sort of calming effect.See?”Severino pointed to the horse, its head had drooped into the arms of the man holding its lead.The scientists were preparing the great muscles of its neck with iodine, and it reminded Cornelius of days caring for his own wounds.
“It all seems—” Watt flinched, watching as a metal catheter was promptly jammed into the appropriate place on the horse’s neck.It shuddered, but otherwise did not move as the humans injected it with venom.It stood there as they poisoned it, and they stood by and watched.Cornelius' guts turned, his hangover unrelenting in the face of such … medicine.
The scientists began talking and Severino translated, which was just as well because Cornelius’ brain felt slow as he watched the process, his own translating skills useless.They explained that the horse would be monitored for a few days, and if there were positive results its blood would be withdrawn and processed, separated into its basest components where the prized antibodies were hiding.This is what the antivenin would be made from.
Cornelius glanced at Watt, wondering why he kept brushing against his arm.Then Cornelius realized that it was the other around, that he was swaying a little.But Watt did not try to steady him or ask if he was alright, at least not aloud.He looked down at Cornelius, face drawn and a question in his eyes.
All morning he’d been staring at Cornelius, quietly concerned.Cornelius had felt too embarrassed to try and set things right, and apparently Watt wasn’t going to let last night slip by undiscussed.Rationally, Cornelius knew a conversation was due between them.For now, Cornelius gave him a short nod and a grim smile, then turned his attention back to the scene at hand.
The needle had been removed from the horse’s neck, and all that remained was a bubble of fluid beneath the skin.In English, Cornelius asked why they used horses.Severino relayed the question to the scientist, who gave a long reply in Portuguese that Cornelius only caught half of.
Severino said, “They handle the venom remarkably well, and have a better metabolism than cows.The short term effects to the animal are fairly minor.”
“And the long term effects?”Watt asked, watching the horse as it was led away to a nearby area with a hose.The scientist explained that a chronic inflammatory response could develop, or renal failure.If he or Severino could tell Cornelius or Watt were discomforted, it did not show on their faces.
The men began to wash the animal down and groom it, which made Cornelius feel a little better.His stomach was still knotted though, and he felt like he’d taken that needle in his own neck.Thankfully they would not be witnessing the exsanguination process, and were led back inside.
Next was a room full of microscopes and women dressed in smart uniforms.There was so much white, and so much glass.Cornelius was keenly aware of his own body, and tried very hard not to touch anything.The scientist gave them a small lecture, and Severino once again translated.“Their job is to process the blood taken from the envemonated animal, and create an immunobiological solution to counteract and neutralize the effects.This solution, the antivenin, is then tested.We will go there now.”
It was time to witness the testing of the bothrops antivenin.
In another room, a pigeon was secured within a birdcage.Cornelius stood close to Watt as the pigeon was injected with venom, trying not to remember stepping in the wrong place at the wrong time.The haunting howl that had preceded the fiery bite, processed by Cornelius seconds too late.
The scientists began the clock, waiting for the venom to take hold/Mason killed the snake and discarded it quickly, then began first aid and called for a runner to send for help.
After about a quarter of an hour, the pigeon began to stumble and thrash, fighting the venom running through its veins/Cornelius shook with adrenaline, but soon the shaking became violent as his body fought the invader with everything it had.
Cornelius flinched when it fell against the side of the cage, then got back up and tried to fly/Mason and the others carried Cornelius back to camp where people had gathered to help but then it all faded into pain and fire and howling darkness.
Watt squeezed Cornelius' hand.It was quick and hard and discreet, more than enough to draw Cornelius from his past.Cornelius inhaled deeply through his nose, keeping his eyes on the fumbling pigeon as the scientists quickly administered the antivenin, needle sneaking between the bars.
They watched, each minute agonizingly slow, as the pigeon began to calm down.The scientists worked, diligently checking and documenting and moving too fast for Cornelius to comprehend.They announced that the antivenin was working as intended thus far, and the animal would be watched closely for the next few days.Cornelius swayed in place again, and this time when his arm brushed against Watt’s he pushed against it, againsthim.
Watt pushed back, steadying Cornelius.The moment didn’t last longer than the blink of an eye.And yet it felt like hours were contained within that precious second of reassurance.
The visit took up the rest of their day, but they secured several ampules of antivenin for themselves in addition to a small batch to deliver to the site.When they left, Cornelius stopped to take a photo.He stood on the drive, searching the beautiful architecture and pretty landscaping for a good shot.He decided on the building and was fidgeting with the settings for the camera when Watt asked, “Could I take your photo?”
Cornelius looked up, surprised.“What?”
Watt lifted a shoulder, glancing between him and the Institute.Quietly, he said, “It’s kind of a fuck you to the universe, isn’t it?Being here, I mean.Like standing on top of a mountain that’s tried to crush you the entire way up.”
