«Look through the glass. See them? I think that goes a long way toward corroboration of the statements given.»
«I know what I see.» Her voice trembled a little, then strengthened. «That he used children—not consenting, informed adult volunteers, but innocents, minors, the injured, the dying. Whatever his motives, whatever his goals, that alone condemns him. It's difficult, Eve, to condemn someone you considered a hero.»
«We've been around that lap already.»
«Damn it, have some respect.»
«For who? Him? Forget it. For you, okay, fine. I do, which is why you're pissing me off. You got any dregs of respect left for him, then—«
«I don't. What he did was against every code. Maybe, maybe I could forgive what he started to do, out of grief. But he didn't stop. He perpetuated it. He played God with lives, not just in the creating of them, but in the manipulation of them. Of her, and all the rest. He gave her to his son as if she were a prize.»
«That's right, he did.»
«His grandchildren.» Mira pressed her lips together. «He would have used his own grandchildren.»
«And himself.»
Mira let out a long, unsteady breath. «Yes. I wondered if you'd realized that yet.»
«A man has the power to create life, why bow to mortality? He's got cells preserved somewhere, with orders to activate on his death. Or he's already got a younger version of himself working somewhere.»
«If so, you have to find him. Stop him.»
«She's already thought of that.» Eve gestured toward the glass. «She and Deena. And they've got a big jump on me. She'd like the trial.»
Eve moved to the glass, studied the two women still in the meeting room. «Yeah, if the kids were away, protected, she'd fucking love to face trial, and spill all this out. She'd spend her life in prison without batting an eye to make sure what was done is in the open. She knows she'll never spend a day in a cage, but she'd do it if she had to.»
«You admire her.»
«I give her an A for balls. I admire balls. He put her in a mold, and imprint or no, she broke it. She broke him.»
She knew what it took to kill your jailer. Your father. «You should go home. You're going to have to spend time with them tomorrow if we're going to cross all Tibble's T's. It's too late to start that tonight.»
«All right.» Mira started for the door, paused. «I'm entitled to some degree of upset,» she said. «To my irrational outbursts earlier, to anger and hurt feelings.»
«I'm entitled to expect you to be perfect, because that's how I see you. So if you go around acting flawed and human like the rest of us lower beings, it's going to throw me off.»
«That's so completely unfair. And touching. Do you know there's no one in this world who can annoy me so much as you, other than Dennis and my own children?»
Eve slid her hands into her pockets. «I guess that's supposed to be touching, too, but it sounds like a slap.»
A smile whispered around Mira's lips. «That's a mother's trick, and one of my favorites. Good night, Eve.»
Eve stood at the glass, watched the two women. They nibbled on what looked to her like a grilled chicken salad, sipped water.
They spoke little, then only about the innocuous. The food, the weather, the house. Eve continued to study them when the door opened and Roarke stepped in.
«Does having a conversation with your clone constitute talking to yourself?»
«One of the many questions and satirical remarks that will be made if and when this becomes public knowledge.» He moved to her, behind her, laid his hands on her shoulders. And found exactly the spot where the worst of the tension knotted.
«Relax a bit, Lieutenant.»
«Gotta stay up. I'm giving it about ten more minutes, then we'll juggle them around again.»
«I take it you and Mira have made up.»
«I don't know what we did. I guess we're down to irritated rather than supremely pissed.»
«Progress. Did you discuss the fact that Reo told you what you'd hoped to hear?»
She let out a sigh. «No. I guess she was irritated enough that one got by her.» She glanced over her shoulder, met his eyes. «Not you, though.»
«I'm not irritated with you, which is approaching a term record, I believe. You don't want them punished. Charged and tried and judged.»
«No. I don't want them punished. Not my call, but it's not what I want. It's not justice to lock them up. They've been locked up all their lives. It has to stop. What's being done, what they're doing.»
He leaned over, kissed the top of her head.
«They've got a place to go already. Got a place to run already set up. Deena would have that nailed down. I could probably find it, sooner or later.»
«Given enough time, I imagine so.» Now he stroked her hair. «Is that what you want?»
«No.» She reached back to take his hand. «Once they get sprung, I don't want to know where they are. Then I don't have to lie about it. I've got to get back to this.»
He turned her, kissed her. «Let me know if you need me.»
She worked them. Took them as a group, separated them. She tag-teamed them with Peabody. She let them sit alone, then hit them once more.
She was going by the book, right down the line. No one studying the record of the interview could claim it wasn't thorough or correct.
They never demanded a lawyer, not even when she fit them with homing bracelets. When she took them back to the Icove residence in the early hours of the morning, they showed considerable fatigue, but that same unruffled calm.
«Peabody, wait for the droids, will you? Get that set up.» She left her partner in the foyer, moved the three women into the living area.
«You're not permitted to leave the premises. If you attempt to do so, your bracelets will send out a signal, and you'll be picked up and—due to the violation—brought into Central holding. Believe me, you'll be more comfortable here.»
«How long do we have to stay?»
«Until such time as you're released from this restriction by the NYPSD or another authority.» She glanced back to make certain Peabody was out of earshot, and still kept her voice low. «The record's off. Tell me where Deena is. If she kills again, it's not going to help anyone. You want this stopped, and I can help stop it. You want this public, and I've got a line on that.»
«Your superiors, and any government authority that gets involved, won't want this public.»
«I'm telling you I've got a line on it, but you're squeezing me. They'll block me out. They'll block me and my team and the department out. They'll scoop you up like hamsters, you and anyone else like you they can find, and put you in a fucking habitrail so they can study you. You'll be back to where you started.»
«Why would you care what happens to us? We've killed.»
So had she, Eve thought. To save herself, to escape the life someone else planned for her. To live her own.
«And you could've gotten out of this without taking lives. You could've gotten your kids and poofed. But you chose this way.»
«It wasn't revenge.» The one who spoke closed those strange and lovely lavender eyes. «It was liberty. For us, for our children, for all the others.»
«They would never have stopped. They'd have made us again, replicated the children.»
«I know. It's not my job to say whether or not you were justified, and I'm already going outside the lines. If you won't give me Deena, find a way to contact her. Tell her to stop, tell her to run. You're going to get most of what you're after. You've got my word.»
«What of all the others, the students, the babies?»
Eve's eyes went flat and blank. «I can't save them all. Neither can you. But you can save more if you tell me where she is. If you tell me where the Icoves have their base of operations.»
«We don't know. But…« The one who spoke looked at her twins, waited for their nod. «We'll find a way to contact her, and do what we can.»
«You don't have much time,» Eve told them, and left them alone.