MICHAEL CRICHTON

“Oh, no,” Munro said. “That would be impolite. I toldthem I would think about it. And I will.”“Then why did they leave?”Munro shrugged. “Not my doing, I assure you. I think they heard something onthe telephone which changed their whole plan.”Karen Ross glanced at her watch, making a note of the time. “Very good stew,”she said. She was doing her best to be agreeable.“Glad you like it. It’s tajin. Camel meat.”Karen Ross coughed. Peter Elliot noticed that his own appetite haddiminished. Munro turned to him. “So you have the gorilla, Professor Elliot?”“How did you know that?”“The Japanese told me. The Japanese are fascinated by your gorilla. Can’tfigure the point of it, drives them mad. A young man with a gorilla, arid a youngwoman who is searching for—”“Industrial-grade diamonds,” Karen Ross said.“Ah, industrial-grade diamonds.” He turned to Elliot. “I enjoy a frankconversation. Diamonds, fascinating.” His manner suggested that he had beentold nothing of importance.Ross said, “You’ve got to take us in, Munro.”“World’s full of industrial-grade diamonds,” Munro said. “You can find them inAfrica, India, Russia, Brazil, Canada, even in America—Arkansas, New York,Kentucky— everywhere you look. But you’re going to the Congo.”The obvious question hung in the air.“We are looking for Type Jib boron-coated blue diamonds,” Karen Ross said,“which have semi conducting properties important to microelectronicsapplications.”Munro stroked his mustache. “Blue diamonds,” he said, nodding. “It makessense.”Ross said that of course it made sense.“You can’t dope them?” Munro asked.“No. It’s been tried. There was a commercial boron-doping process, but it wastoo unreliable. The Americans had one and so did the Japanese. Everyone gaveit up as hopeless79