‘Again,’ said another, ‘why the East? We have our own treatment-resistant illnesses, like MRSA. It too could mutate and we have as many mega-cities as the East, places where such diseases could spread and become epidemic, even pandemic. Mexico City is just across the border and is the largest city in the world.’
‘It’s simply a question of the odds,’ Wolfe replied, staying calm. ‘Virulent influenza strains have appeared in the East most often, rarely from South America. We don’t know why, but that’s just the way it is. It’s also preferable from an economic point of view.’
The men nodded slowly, well aware of the manufacturing powerhouses of India and China swiftly rising to threaten the dominance of the United States. Reducing the populations of such countries beneath the veneer of disease elimination could serve greater purposes for those with vested interests in maintaining the balance of economic power.
There were a final few moments of silence, and then the eldest man spoke with a tone of absolute finality.
‘There can be no witnesses of any kind,’ he said. ‘Everybody who is involved in this must be removed from play for the greater good of all mankind. If word ever gets out it will be the end of us all, immortal or not.’
‘There will be no leaks,’ Wolfe insisted. ‘The net’s already closing around those involved, and soon we’ll have them in total isolation.’
‘Where?’
‘The New Mexico desert,’ Wolfe said. ‘There, far from civilization, they can be removed from the equation. Nobody will ever know.’
The eldest man folded his hands before him as he spoke.
‘Acquire the samples you claim will render us immune to aging. Prove they work, and we will in turn set in motion the required laws to reduce global population. It will take time, but it will come to pass.’
‘Are you sure that you can turn the United Nations?’ Wolfe pressed him. ‘They will oppose any such enforced population control at every turn, as will the Vatican.’
‘The United Nations will have little influence over our plans,’ the eldest man said. ‘European population growth has been negligible for some time and is even in negative figures in some countries. It is in the developing world where the issue is strongest. China enforced a one-child policy for decades with our help. Others will follow suit or suffer the consequences of trade embargoes: we will use the economic markets to force their hand. As for the Vatican, people care less about its opinion by the year and are leaving the Church in their millions anyway. The Pope’s view on this is irrelevant because the Vatican’s only success in its long and miserable existence is to prove that it knows nothing about the nature of either gods or people.’
Donald Wolfe nodded.
‘And if an infection breaks before these plans can be implemented?’
The four men glanced at each other again before the eldest spoke. ‘Then we must endeavor to keep it beyond our shores,’ he said, ‘and we can tell the United Nations that we warned them of the danger.’
‘I’ll get things in motion immediately,’ Wolfe said.
‘This conversation never occurred,’ the eldest man said to him. ‘And if your role here should be compromised, we expect that you will remove yourself from existence entirely before our own involvement can be exposed. Do you understand what I am telling you?’
Wolfe baulked, but nodded once without thinking.
‘Say it,’ the old man insisted. ‘Tell me that you understand what I’m telling you.’
‘You’re telling me that you want me to commit suicide if I am exposed?’
The man nodded once.
‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Donald. You’ve said it yourself: this is an extremely sensitive issue with immense repercussions. We do not intend to be on the receiving end of any investigation and we cannot trust you alone to shield us from scrutiny. Therefore, you will remove yourself from the equation.’
The four men moved to the door of the suite. The old man turned and looked over his shoulder at Wolfe.
‘If you refuse or are unable to commit the act, Donald, then rest assured we will arrange for somebody to do it for you.’
Wolfe swallowed thickly and watched as the men filed silently from his suite to disappear once more into absolute anonymity.
28
‘This guy has more money than God.’
Lopez was sitting beside Ethan in the passenger seat of the Mercury, the screen of her handheld showing an Internet page detailing SkinGen Corp.
‘Major pharmaceutical chiefs often do,’ Ethan said as he pulled into the heavily manned gates of the company’s headquarters and showed his identification to the guardsmen.
Lopez scanned down through the Internet entry as they waited for access to the site.
‘True, but this one’s special,’ she said. ‘SkinGen’s annual turnover is measured in billions, and Jeb Oppenheimer has a reputation for extreme corporate ruthlessness. Says here that he once bought an entire company and then shut it down, in revenge for a deal several years previously that had gone against him. Almost three hundred people lost their jobs overnight, and the shut-down cost Oppenheimer fifteen million dollars.’
‘Let me guess,’ Ethan said as the barriers lifted to allow them through. ‘He took the hit happily.’
‘By then fifteen million dollars was small change to him. He owns yachts worth five times that, which he doesn’t visit for years. Properties in Manhattan, London, Paris, Sydney and Rome, none of them worth less than ten million, and also a fleet of private jets on permanent standby in each of those countries.’ Lopez shook her head. ‘Seriously, how many private jets can one person need?’
‘I’d have just one for business and one for pleasure,’ Ethan said. ‘No sense in being greedy. What’s his line of work exactly?’
Lopez scrolled through a few pages before reading slowly.
‘SkinGen’s current research involves the manipulation of cellular transdifferentiation in mammalian species.’
‘Thought so.’
‘Sure,’ Lopez smiled. ‘Something to do with aging, but most of the research has been done behind closed doors under great secrecy. For whatever reason, the government is either unable or uninterested in monitoring whatever old Jeb’s up to in his labs.’
Ethan parked the car in front of the colossal building with ranks of glossy-black windows set into aluminum. The whole place was as perfectly arranged as an operating theater, and seemed completely silent as they climbed out of the car, as though everything was artificial and devoid of life.
‘Sterile,’ Lopez remarked in the hot silence.
Ethan led the way into a vast yet virtually empty air-conditioned lobby, where an immaculately dressed woman sat stranded behind an elaborately sculptured desk of metal and glass, dwarfed by the empty space around her.
‘Ethan Warner to see Jeb Oppenheimer,’ he said cheerfully and with a bright smile. ‘We called ahead…
The receptionist did not return the smile, simply looked down at what he presumed was a concealed computer screen and tapped a few keys.
‘You didn’t book an appointment,’ she intoned robotically.
‘We’re here on behalf of the Santa Fe Police Department,’ Lopez cut in. ‘Either inconvenience Mister Oppenheimer right now or we’ll come back with warrants and tear this place apart.’
The receptionist stared at Lopez in surprise, then picked up a telephone and dialed an extension number. After a brief conversation, she set the telephone down.
‘Mister Oppenheimer is waiting for you,’ she said without looking up from her screen. ‘Top floor, end of the corridor. You can’t miss it.’