Anew: Book Two: Hunted (19 page)

I’ve been certain since I found her beside the reflecting
pool at the Crystal Palace that she is withholding something from me. My gut
twists as I’m forced to ask myself--what does Amelia think she can’t tell me?
And what does she imagine I’ll do when I find it out?

Amelia

T
ime drags after Ian
leaves me in the penthouse. I treat myself to a long bath, which does soothe
away the little aches and traces of soreness that are a small price to pay for
the sensual indulgence I’ve enjoyed. Afterward, I even consider a nap but
decide against it. I’m still too restless. Dressed and with my hair blow dried,
I drift out toward the kitchen where I find Hodge. We chat for awhile but I
don’t want to keep him from his duties and besides something keeps pushing at
the edge of my mind, demanding my attention. The harder I try to figure out
what it is, the more elusive it becomes.

My appetite has deserted me. I skip lunch, to Hodge’s
chagrin, and find my way to the library. I’ve discovered that I love to read
but today my concentration keeps wandering. Finally, I give up and drift out onto
the terrace. The day is bright and warm. Even this high up, I don’t feel the
need for a wrap. I’m enjoying the feel of the sun on my face as I stare out
over the harbor to the ocean beyond.

I desperately wish that we were still at the beach house but
at the same time I cherish the time we had there. Ian has lowered his guard and
let me in to a degree that we’ve never come close to before. I can only marvel
at his willingness to do so even as I wish I could be as open and honest with
him. I’m still finding my way through the challenges of intimacy. That’s a
topic Susannah could have left me more information about.

Abruptly, I remember what I said to Ian about wondering if
she hadn’t spent the last months of her life learning everything she thought I
would need to know. He didn’t dismiss that possibility. In fact, he seemed to
think that it could be true. What if he was right? I’m continually being
surprised by what I know--everything from how to play the piano and dance to a
recipe for steamed mussels. What else is there that I haven’t yet had a reason
to discover?

What would Susannah have wanted me to know? At once, I think
of Ian. With a start, I realize that I know his birthday--February 27, the name
and vintage of his favorite wine, the fact that he has a fondness for 20
^th
century Kung Fu movies. There’s a great deal more but none of it is
particularly intimate. I’m relieved by that. I have no desire to know any more
about the personal aspects of their relationship than what Ian has already told
me. Not for the first time, I’m thankful to Susannah for not imposing any of
her memories on me but instead leaving me free to form my own.

All she gave me were facts, the kind a person might memorize
before taking a test.

The moment that thought goes through my mind, I stiffen.
That is exactly what my knowledge feels like, so much so that it can’t be an
accident. How did Susannah think that I might be tested? On one level, the
answer is obvious. The world I’ve been thrust into presents constant
challenges. She did her best to prepare me for them. I possess a treasure trove
of information about culture, social customs, and the like. But there’s
something else. I’m certain of it. She wanted me to have a good life but before
anything else, Susannah would have wanted me to be safe.

From what? Where did she think danger might come from?

I knew nothing about the anti-replica terrorists who called
themselves the Human Preservation Front until I looked them up on the link
after the first time Ian mentioned them. From what he told me, the HPF had
already taken credit for several acts of violence. But they all happened in the
year between when Susannah died and my imprinting was finally completed. She
wouldn’t have been aware of them.

But she would have been aware of so much else that she left
me to discover for myself--the strict class structure of the city, the
existence of scavengers, the reliance on fear and brutality to maintain the
status quo. The presence in the city of men like Charles Davos, ruling from the
shadows.

The mere thought of him fills me with disgust. He had an
unhealthy fascination with Susannah that he’s transferred to me, to such an
extent that I can’t help fearing that he has some sense of who I really am. And
he’s warned me to stay away from Ian. After their confrontation on the dance
floor, he can’t have any doubt that we are involved with each other. What might
that prompt him to do?

I honestly have no idea but as soon as I stop avoiding
thinking about him and focus my mind, I begin to discover what Susannah knew
about Davos. The assemblage of facts includes details that would be available
from any biographical source and suggest that she deliberately researched him.
I’m a little surprised to discover that he grew up in humble circumstances, the
son of a school teacher and a truck driver. He left that world behind for good
when he won a scholarship to an elite university. After graduation and a stint
as a Wall Street trader, he founded his own venture capital fund. Brilliant and
ruthless, he earned top returns for a very select clientele, among them Marcus
Slade.

Charles Davos and Ian’s father were acquainted from the
time they were both young men
. The realization of that quickly prompts an
unsettling thought. Was Davos one of those Marcus recruited into his private
sex club? If he was, that would explain Ian’s intense animosity toward him.

But it doesn’t explain why Susannah might have thought that
Davos could be a danger to me. I can understand if she found his interest in
her disturbing, even repugnant. But unless she thought he could see past all
the differences that separate me from her and somehow perceive the connection
between us--

To do that, he would have to know that the replica process
can be tailored to produce not an exact copy of the original but a new, unique
individual. I have the impression that isn’t generally known but I could be
wrong. A quick search on the link confirms that I’m not. As I suspected,
there’s a great deal of information about the replica process and the
controversy it has generated but no mention that it can be customized in any
way. How then could Davos have discovered that?

As soon as I form the question, the answer presents itself.
Two years ago, Charles Davos’ tried to buy the Institute where I was imprinted.
He did it quietly, not wanting his interest in the replica process to be known
but Susannah found out anyway. Lacking her memories, I have no idea how she did
so. Did she become aware of it after she began to make her arrangements for me?
Did she catch a glimpse of him there? Did she overhear something?

The likelihood is that I will never know how Susannah
discovered Davos’ intentions. But that doesn’t matter. What does is the
possibility that Davos wanted control of the Institute because he knew it could
produce customized replicas. That would lead him to at least suspect the truth
about me.

And that makes him an enormous danger.

If I hadn’t been so repulsed from my very first encounter
with him, I might have discovered this much sooner but at least I know now. I
have to tell Ian.

Hodge is no longer in the penthouse. In his absence, I have
no idea what to do. There must be some obvious way to contact Ian but it eludes
me. Clearly, Susannah didn’t think of absolutely everything I would need to
know. Or she simply assumed that I’d be smart enough to solve at least some of
my own problems.

The first time I stayed at Pinnacle House, I was able to use
the link to speak with my grandmother. Activating it again, I say, “Call Ian
Slade.”

A melodic voice replies, “That number is unlisted. Numbers
are available for Slade Enterprises Executive Offices, Slade Enterprises
Research and Development, Slade Enterprises Human Resources, Slade
Enterprises--”

“Never mind.”

Of course a man as private as Ian wouldn’t have his contact
number listed even on the link available only to city residents. In fact, given
what he thinks of most of them, he particularly wouldn’t do so.

I’m trying to decide what else I can do when a quiet voice
asks, “May I be of assistance, Miss McClellan?”

Startled, I look around quickly. No one else is here.
“Who--?”

“My name is Clarence Darrow, miss. I’m using the voice
capability in the link that you’re holding. I apologize if I alarmed you but I
noticed that you appear to be having some difficulty.”

“Mister Darrow, who are you? And why are you monitoring me?”

“Please, call me Clarence. I’m the Slade Enterprises’ A.I.
Normally, I have no presence in Mister Slades’ private residence, however
Mister Hodgkin had to step out briefly. He alerted me in case you needed anything
in his absence.”

Slowly, I say, “You sound very…human.” I don’t know much
about A.I.s. I have to hope that it--he won’t be insulted.

I hear a faint laugh. “Thank you. I do try. Now I believe
you wish to contact Mister Slade?”

“Yes, can you tell me where he is?”

“Mister Slade is currently in the Operations Center. Shall I
let him know that you would like to speak with him?”

I hesitate. Ian has kept me almost entirely insulated from
the professional side of his life, with the result that I’m consumed by
curiosity about it.

“I’d rather go see him. How do I get there?”

“This way, miss.”

A holographic schematic of Pinnacle House appears before me
with the location of the Operations Center a hundred and ten floors below
clearly marked, including the fact that it is “Restricted. Authorized Personnel
Only”.

“I can grant you access as far as the security entrance,
miss,” Clarence says. “Anything beyond that, Mister Slade will have to
approve.”

“I understand. Thank you, Clarence. I appreciate your help.”

“Not at all, miss. May I say, it’s been a pleasure speaking
with you.”

I step into the elevator wondering if all A.I.s are so
polite and helpful but the rapid descent quickly turns my thoughts back to Ian.
By the time I arrive at the Operations Center moments later, I’m unbearably
eager to find him. The absence of just a few hours is proving intolerable.

A very fit young man in crisp khakis bars my way even as he
gives me an appreciative once-over. “I’ll need to confirm your clearance,
miss,” he says, holding up a hand.

As he speaks, heavy metal doors in a nearby wall slide open.
Ian steps out. He doesn’t look at all surprised to see me. “That’s okay, Bob.
She’s with me.”

At once, the young man steps aside and averts his gaze. I
appear to have become instantly invisible to him.

“Clarence said you were on your way down,” Ian says. His
eyes, locked on mine, are shadowed with concern. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, but I need to tell you something. It’s urgent.” I
hesitate, aware that we aren’t alone.

“Come this way.” He takes my arm and leads me past the metal
doors into a vast, cavernous space filled with people and monitors. Everyone I
can see is intensely busy. It looks as though some sort of major action is
underway. I wonder if I should have interrupted Ian but then I remember how
Davos makes me feel and push that concern aside.

“No one will disturb us here,” Ian says, indicating a small
conference room off to one side. After we enter, he closes and locks the door
behind us. Facing me, he asks, “What is it, Amelia?”

I take a breath and speak as calmly as I can manage when my
heart is racing and the sharp edge of dread is closing in all around me. “Two
years ago, Charles Davos tried to buy the Institute where the process for
creating customized replicas was developed and where I was later imprinted.”

Ian frowns. “How do you know this?”

“Susannah knew. She was already considering the process as
an option for me. I don’t know how she discovered what Davos was up to but what
matters is that she passed that knowledge on to me. I would have realized it
sooner except he isn’t someone I’ve wanted to think about. I’ve only
encountered him a handful of times and I’ve done my best to forget him. I’m
sorry now that I did.”

Slowly, Ian says, “He must have kept his interest very
quiet. I haven’t heard a whisper about it.”

“If you’re thinking that Susannah could have been wrong,
keep in mind that all she passed on to me are simple, straightforward facts. No
opinions, beliefs, preferences, suspicions, or anything of that kind. Before
her final neural imprint was taken, she must have been convinced that Davos’
interest in the Institute was real or I wouldn’t know anything about it.”

“All right, but there is something you don’t know. Edward
has been looking into the source of the funding behind the Human Preservation
Front, the people who wanted to destroy all replicas. Half-an-hour ago, he
succeeded in tracing the origin of the money to an account that’s controlled by
Davos.”

 I can’t conceal my bewilderment. “I don’t understand.
Davos wanted to acquire the Institute just to destroy it? Or is it that he
wanted to destroy it because he couldn’t acquire it?”