Betsy smiled. “I’m sure it is. And you’ll notice I didn’t include the part about her giving birth to a sim as one of her delusions.”
“You don’t really think…,” Romy said, frowning. She glanced at Patrick. “I mean, how…?”
“It’s obvious when you think about it,” Betsy told her. “Human surrogate mothers were a necessity in the early stages of the sim breeding process.”
Romy’s face twisted in revulsion. “Why on earth—?”
“Because sims are considerably larger than chimps. A small chimpanzee uterus couldn’t carry a sim baby to term, but a human uterus would have no problem.”
Patrick was dazed. “So part of what she’s saying might be true?”
“Perhaps not about birthing the very first sim, but…how old is she?”
“Forty-seven—she says.”
Betsy nodded. “Then she’s about the right age. Think about the implantation process—flat on her back on a table, bright lights overhead, surrounded by doctors in caps, masks, and goggles as they insert an in-vitro–fertilized ovum into her uterus. You can see how an unbalanced mind might later reinterpret this as an alien abduction.”
“But to go through all that for five thousand dollars?”
“I’m sure it was more like fifty thousand: say, five in advance, then five every month until delivery. The process is no different from being a surrogate mother for a human couple.”
“Except that at the end you don’t deliver a human baby,” Romy said.
Betsy nodded. “Right. And perhaps that unbalanced an already fragile mind.”
“Which makes her one more casualty left in SimGen’s wake,” Romy said.
“But she couldn’t have been the only one,” Patrick said. “How come we haven’t heard about this before?”
Betsy shrugged. “I’m sure there were many human surrogate mothers before SimGen developed its breeding stock. I’m also sure they signed non-disclosure agreements with stiff penalties.”
“Not exactly the sort of thing I’d want to trumpet from the rooftops anyway,” Romy added.
Patrick leaned back, thinking. He had a sense that something important had slipped past him here, something Betsy had said a moment ago.
A small chimpanzee uterus couldn’t carry a sim baby to term, but a human uterus would have no problem.
And then he knew.
“Oh, Christ! Meerm is carrying a half-human, half-sim baby. Won’t it grow too big—?”
“Too big for her to carry full term?” Betsy said. “Absolutely. Normal sim gestation is eight months, but we don’t know when Meerm conceived, so we don’t know her due date. That’s why you have to find her. If she goes into premature labor while she’s in hiding, the baby won’t survive. If she’s too far along the baby will be too big for a vaginal delivery, which means she’ll need a cesarean.”
“And if she doesn’t get one?” Romy asked, and Patrick could tell from her expression that she didn’t want to hear the answer.
“We’ll lose both of them.”
Romy closed her eyes for a heartbeat or two, then stared at Patrick. “We’vegot to find her.”
“Tome is set to go tonight.”
Zero had called Patrick this morning to tell him he’d gone back to Newark before dawn and followed the sim bus into Manhattan. He saw where it dropped off the sims at a Harlem sweatshop. Assuming pick-up would be at the same spot, the new plan was to put Tome on line with the workers as they boarded the bus.
“If Tome gets the job done tonight, we could be bringing Meerm here tomorrow morning.”
Betsy smiled and raised her coffee cup in a sort of toast. “I’ll be waiting.”
6
NEWARK, NJ
Meerm hide in cold dark place and hurt. Hurt so ver bad. Tummy go kick-kick-kick. Was food bad? Meerm not think. Not feel sick tummy, just hurt tummy. Hurt-hurt-hurt, then stop. Then hurt-hurt-hurt again, then stop.
Now hurt stop again. Meerm close eyes and breathe. So good when hurt stop.
What this? Leg feel wet. Meerm touch. Yes, wet and warm. Put wet from leg near light from steel door crack. Red wet. Blood? Where blood come? From inside? How come from inside?
Now Meerm cry. Don’t want bleed. Don’t want die. What wrong Meerm?
7
MANHATTAN
Tome keep head down and walk far back in bus like Mist Sulliman say do. Sit seat and wait. Other sim come, say, “My seat, my seat.”
Tome stand wait for bus move, then find other seat.
“Who you?” say she-sim next Tome. “You not shop sim.”
Tome remember what Mist Sulliman tell him say. “Yes, not shop sim. Just old sim looking for friend.”
“Who friend?”
“Meerm.”
Tome know not true, but Mist Sulliman tell say this.
She-sim say loud, “Beece! Beece! Come see old sim!”
Tome look and see he-sim come down aisle. This Beece big. Look down Tome.
“Why here old sim?”
“I am Tome. Look for Meerm. She friend.”
Beece get mad face. “You lie! Bad mans send! You want hurt Meerm!”
“No! Good mans send. Friend all sim. Best friend sim have. Try to make sim union. Try—”
“What yooyun?”
Tome try tell but Beece not understand. So Tome tell Beece bout how Mist Sulliman hurt by bad mans, house burned by bad mans who hate sim.
Beece eyes ver wide. “House burn? Because help sims?”
All other sim who hear turn round, look Tome.
Tome say, “Yes! Good man! Best man. Now want help Meerm. Save her from bad mans. Also Meerm ver sick.”
All sim nod. Yes, some say. Meerm ver sick.
“Good man help make better. Where Tome find Meerm?”
Beece not speak.
She-sim next Tome say, “Beece not know. No sim know.”
No sim speak long time. Tome ver sad. Want help Mist Sulliman but fail. Touch phone in pocket. Must call and tell.
Then Beece say, “Beece know. Not know exact, but can help.” Beece look hard Tome. “Must tell true. Must help Meerm.”
“Tome help Meerm.” So ver happy now. “Tome help good.”
8
NEWARK, NJ
“Get ready,” Zero murmured from the darkness behind her as the school bus pulled to a stop before the sim crib.
Romy raised her binoculars and focused on the front door. Patrick had parked the van in the same spot as last night. He sat beside her behind the wheel, training his own set of glasses on the door, and she knew Zero had his pair aimed between them. They had to know whether or not Tome got off the bus, and all agreed that three sets of eyes were better than one.
Romy licked her lips. Her fingers felt slick against the black matte finish of the binocular barrels. This was the night when it all could come together, when all her years of effort, when everything she’d worked for would come to fruition…
Or go up in smoke.
She took a breath. No smoke. This was going to work.
No movement yet. She noticed Patrick lowering his glasses.
He let out a long, slow breath, as if he’d been holding it. “What if somebody spots him and gets suspicious?” he said.
“No reason they should,” Zero said. “Tome’s dressed just like the other sims. And besides, the surveillance teams are looking for a pregnant female.”
“But what about their warden or whatever you call the guy inside—what if he counts one extra and turns him over to the guys outside. I saw how they cut up those other sims.”
Romy stared at Patrick. Was that a catch in his voice? He was really worried—not about blowing their chance to find Meerm, but about Tome being hurt. Same as last night when he’d refused to let Tome near the building.
She felt a burst of warmth for him. What a change from the hard case she’d met just a few months ago. She laid a gentle hand on his arm.
“We won’t let anything happen to Tome. You know that.”
“Better not,” he said, staring straight ahead. “He’s my roomie, you know.”
“I know. And I—”
“There they are,” Zero said and the three of them trained their glasses on the small patch of sidewalk between the bus and the front door.