Sinclair-1 pointed to Luca. “Send a notice to the entire Natal Center staff—MDs and assistants alike—warning them that they might be approached, and to report any feelers that might come their way.”
Voss said, “And you might want to remind those folks that they’re eligible for the five-million reward.”
“Excellent point,” Sinclair-1 said.
“We’ll check out any Natal employees who’re out sick or taking an unplanned vacation,” Luca added.
But all this was going to require more manpower. He’d have to go to Lister for it. But that was okay. Canvassing the Natal Center was a good tactical move, and Luca would present it as his own idea.
Sinclair-2 suddenly shot from his seat and began pacing. He looked jittery. I do believe we’ve hit a nerve, Luca thought.
The CEO stared at his brother. “What is it, Ellis? You have something to add?”
Sinclair-2 stopped at the window and stared out at the hills. “I just thought of something. Something terrible.”
“Oh?” Sinclair-1 smiled. “Finally realized what that baby will do to our stock?”
“I’m not worried about the stock,” he said. “I’m far more worried about what this baby will do tous , Merce—you and me. Personally, not financially.”
“I’m not following.”
“What if Meerm’s baby is a girl?”
The CEO looked puzzled. “Girl, boy, what difference does it make? Its very existence is the threat.”
“Competition, Merce.” Sinclair-2 turned from the window and stared at his brother. His eyes looked haunted. “Inter- and intragenomic competition. Think about it.”
It’s finally happened, Luca thought. Sinclair-2 has completely lost it. Even his brother can’t figure out what he’s talking about.
He glanced at the CEO then and was struck by the change in his expression. His King-of-the-World look was fading—the perpetually raised eyebrows had sagged, the condescending half smile had fallen into a frown. But his eyes…his eyes told the whole story, narrowing and then widening into what Luca could only describe as abject horror. His mouth opened, his jaw worked, he took a step backward, almost lost his balance, and fell into his chair where he sat staring at his brother. His gray complexion made him look more dead than alive.
“What’s wrong?” Voss said, upset as well, but only by his boss’s reaction. He seemed as much in the dark as Luca. “What did he say? What’s wrong with it being a girl?”
The CEO was incapable of speech. Sinclair-2 answered for him.
“Not your concern, Abel. This is a personal matter between us.”
“Itis his concern!” Sinclair-1 blurted, getting some of his color back. “It’sall our concern!” He turned to his brother. “Ellis, for the love of God, if you’re involved in any way with the people who have the sim, do something! Stop them!”
Sinclair-2 shook his head. “I can’t stop anything. I don’t know Meerm’s whereabouts. It’s beyond you, it’s beyond me. It’s up to Zero now.”
Sinclair-1’s brow furrowed. “Zero? What’s zero?”
“Not what. Who.”
“You don’t mean…?” Sinclair-1 blinked. “ThatZero? But he’s dead.”
Sinclair-2 stared at his younger brother. “Not quite.”
The two words seemed to hang in the air between them. Portero caught Voss’s eye and the big man shrugged, obviously as confused as he.
“You liar!” Sinclair-1 blurted, his face purpling. “You traitor!”
Sinclair-2’s voice remained flat. “You’re amazing, you know that? But the fact remains, Zero’s in charge, not me, and I’m afraid events have built to a point of inevitability now where no one can stop them.”
“Nothingis inevitable!” Sinclair-1 screamed. Now he seemed to be the one losing it. “Not until I say so! There’s still a fifty-fifty chance it’s a male! But no matter what it is, I want it bornhere! ” He pointed with both hands, jabbing his index fingers toward Luca and Voss. “So get out there and find that sim, goddamnit!”
Normally Luca wouldn’t have allowed the twit to speak to him that way, but now he was clearly off his head, so Luca turned and led Voss into the hall. As soon as the door closed behind them, Voss grabbed his arm.
“You have any idea what that ruckus was all about?”
Luca shook his head. He was as baffled as the fat man.
“I been with this company since the git-go,” Voss said, sweating, eyes darting about like caged birds, “and I ain’t never, ever seen Mercer Sinclair lose his cool like that.” He shook his head. “Boy baby, girl baby—what the hell does it mean?”
“Haven’t a clue,” Luca said, turning and moving away.
He had things to do. The first was to pry more manpower out of Lister for his trap; another was to find out what had so unnerved the Sinclairs. Something about inter- and intragenomic competition. Sounded like heavy shit, not the kind of stuff they’d taught him in Special Forces. But it might turn out to be important. It might beway important. And right now he needed all the help he could get.
14
MINEOLA, NY
One hell of a day.
Patrick lay awake in the dark in the smaller of Betsy Cannon’s two extra bedrooms, and thought about the changes Meerm’s baby would bring. He had no doubt that the child’s pedigree, despite all the challenges and smokescreens SimGen would throw up, eventually would elevate sims to the status of “persons.” That one change in designation would tumble SimGen and send the world’s labor and financial markets into chaos. The simple realization that he’d occupy a pivotal position in the eye of that oncoming storm would have made sleep difficult; knowing that a cadre of ruthless men were on the prowl, looking for him and Romy and Meerm to prevent that from happening made it impossible.
Zero had departed late this afternoon after a protracted debate as to whether or not Kek should stay here for security. They finally decided against that. Zero was the only one who could control him. What if Kek decided he wanted to go outside? Who was going to stop him? If he were spotted, that would blow their cover. Better to keep all nonhumans away from Betsy’s.
After a light dinner, they’d all turned in early. Romy was in the next bedroom down the hall, Meerm was on a cot in Betsy’s bedroom, Tome and Kek were with Zero at his home, wherever that was, God was in His heaven, and not one damn thing seemed right with the world.
He jumped as he heard the bedroom door open.
“It’s only me.” He recognized Romy’s whisper. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Just startled me,” he said. Then she startled him even further him by slipping under the covers and huddling against him. “Hold me, Patrick.”
“Gladly.”
He wound his arms around her. She was wearing some sort of long T-shirt. He didn’t know what she had on under it, if anything.
“No, I mean, just hold me,” she said. “Nothing more. I don’t want to be alone tonight, Patrick. I need a friend.”
“That’s me,” he sighed. He was about to add, Friend to the friendless, but bit it back. She was trembling, as if chilled. So he said, “Tough day, huh.”
“Believe it.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
And then she said, “I feel lost, Patrick. I used to have some pretty hard and fast ideas about right and wrong, up and down, latitude and longitude, but now everything’s been twisted out of shape. Like one of those computer programs that let you distort a photo or a famous painting, you know, push it and pull it this way and that until it bears only a passing resemblance to the original. That’s how my world feels. That’s how my life feels. That’s howI feel. Like I don’t even know myself anymore.” A harsh little laugh. “Not that I ever did.”
“You loved him, didn’t you.”
He heard a soft sob and felt her head nod against his shoulder.
“Do you still?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I was in love with an image I’d concocted. But now that the mask is off…”