F Paul Wilson - Sims 03 (11 page)

 
          
“It’s not like some dinghy you can
cut loose at sea and forget.
It’s
part of a chain of
subsidiary corporate entities that this Sullivan fuck has already traced back
four or five levels. This has everyone upset.”

 
          
The way Lister emphasized “everyone”
made it clear to Luca that this went far up the SIRG ladder.

 
          
“They want the woman and the lawyer
stopped,” Lister added, staring at him. “And since you were in charge of the
Cadman woman when she saw the truck with the
Idaho
plates, that
puts this square in your lap. They want
you to take care of it.”

 
          
“What? Take her out? If anything
happens to her, anything
final ,
Manassas Ventures
will be a prime suspect.”

 
          
“I’m talking about
information
,
not termination. She’s obviously not alone in this. They want to know
who’s behind her. They want her source. And if there’s a leak in SimGen, they
want to know who it is. Word has come down: This has equal priority with the
missing sim. Understand me, Luca? This isn’t me talking to you.” Lister
suddenly looked uncomfortable. “This comes from the Old Man himself.”

 
          
The Old Man?
Luca swallowed. That meant this went all the way up the ladder, and all eyes
would be on him. Damn Romy Cadman for mentioning that truck. It almost seemed
like she was doing everything in her power to screw him.

 
          
“Word is he’s raising hell how if
you’d done the job right the first time, when you rolled
Sullivan’s
car off
the Saw Mill, we wouldn’t be facing this now.”

 
          
Luca felt sick. “Jesus…”

 
          
“I went to bat for you, sent the Old
Man your record in Operation Anaconda and the
Baghdad
sorties, and apparently that carried some weight. You know, soldier to soldier.
He’s giving you a chance to redeem yourself. That doesn’t happen too often.”

 
          
“I’m grateful,” he said, forcing the
words past stiff lips.

 
          
Luca felt a growing pressure in his
head. Was someone out to get him…dump more on him than any one man could
handle, then wait for him to buckle under the weight?

 
          
“I’ll help you with the logistics and
anything else I can,” Lister told him. He looked fidgety now. Maybe Luca wasn’t
the only one being given a second chance. “We’ve got to know who she’s fronting
for.” He glanced at his watch.
“Got to run.”

 
          
Luca followed him outside to the
cars. He waved to Maria and jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the open
front door. She jumped out of the Jeep and ran back into the house.

 
          
Again, Lister’s eyes followed her.
“Remember what I said about putting down roots.”

 
          
“Roger that,” Luca said.

 
          
But not till he saw how all this
settled out. Until then he wanted that
Bermuda
account
as fat as possible.

 
          
“And ditch the kid. Put her back
where you found her.”

 
          
“Will do.”

 
          
Lister smiled. “Or marry her.”

 
          
“I don’t think so.”

 
          
He’d miss Maria, miss her a lot. She
loved sex, cooked up a storm, and was crazy about him, would do anything for
him. Maybe he’d keep her around till he found a replacement. Someone who could—

 
          
Luca’s PCA chirped. He flipped it
open and turned away from Lister as he spoke. “Yes.”

 
          
“This is Grimes. We found her. She’s
been hiding out in a sim crib.”

 
          
Relief flooded through him. “You have
her?”

 
          
“Not yet. But we’ve got an address
and we’re on our way.”

 
          
“Where’s the crib?” Luca listened as
Grimes read off a
Newark
address.
“I’ll meet you there.”

 
          
He ended the call and turned back to
Lister.
“One of my men.
We’ve located the missing sim.
We’re on our way to pick her up.” He grinned at Lister.
“One
problem down, one more to go.”

 
          
“Let’s hope so,” Lister said.

 
          
Luca jumped into the Jeep.
Newark
.
Not a long drive. And the timing could not be better.
Tying
this up would free him up to devote all his energies to Romy Cadman, and
settling with her once and for all.

 
          
NEWARK
,
NJ

 
          
Meerm lonely.
Not hungry. Nibble food save from last night. Watch out window. See peoples
walk sidewalk. Not far down.
One floor.
Meerm listen.
Sometime hear what passing peoples say.
Sometime happy.
Sometime mad.
Meerm like happy better.

 
          
Meerm watch street. Many
car
but no sim bus. Wait sim bus. Hope
come
soon. Then
friend Beece come
. Belly pain hurt less
when Beece near. Beece talk Meerm, help Meerm.

 
          
Meerm see car come fast. Stop
outside.
Four sunglass
mans come. Look round, look sim
building.
Meerm quick step back.
Who mans? Why here?
Why look at sim building?

 
          
Meerm fraid mans come in. Peek so
mans not see. No mans come in. All stand by car. One talk little phone. Why
here?

 
          
Then Meerm see new car. Also fast.
Stop next first car. One man
come
. New
man talk
loud. Point this way and that way. Other mans go.
New
man voice…Meerm hear
before.
But
where?

 
          
Now Meerm see new man and other man
come sim building.
Meerm fraid.
Mans come take Meerm
away? Back to new needle place?

 
          
Meerm hide. Go closet. Push self into
dark corner. Make ver small.

 
          
Hear yell downstair.
Benny mad.
Shout loud. New
man yell
back.

 
          
Meerm shake. Know new man voice!
Same voice in old home night loud noise and fire.
Hear on
roof too. New
man come
get Meerm!

 
          
Hear loud feets on stairs. Must not
find! Must not find! Meerm climb up in closet. Get on shelf. Curl up. Make
small-small.
Tiny-tiny-tiny.
Push back into high
corner and—

 
          
Corner move.
Meerm turn, feel loose board. Meerm push board, move more.
Black
space open.
Cold in hole.
Meerm not care. Too
fraid be cold.

 
          
Hear new man voice yell, “Damn it,
where is she?”
Voice close now.
In sim sleep room.

 
          
Meerm squeeze into black hole.
Ooh-ooh-ooh.
Too tight.
Meerm so fat now.
Meerm fraid get stuck, but more fraid new
man.
Push-push-push, get fat self into hole.

 
          
“I tell you,” Benny
say
, “we ain’t got no sims here inna day!”
Benny sound fraid.
“Not till tonight when they all bussed
back from the city.”

 
          
“She’s here!” new
man
say
. “And we’re going to find her! Look under every bunk! Check every
closet!”

 
          
Meerm in cold place
inside wall.
Ver tight.
Ver
dark.
Meerm push on board, push back where belong.
More
dark now.
All dark.

 
          
Meerm hear closet door squeak. Some
man open. Meerm can’t see man but hear thing move. Meerm stay ver, ver still.
Not breathe.

 
          
“Nothing in here.”
New man voice ver close.
Meerm so fraid.
Want go pee.
Bite lip stop cry.
“Where the fuckis she?”

 
          
“Maybe she goes out,” say other man
voice. “You know, walks around.”

 
          
“Since when did you become a sim
expert?”

 
          
Other
man say
,
“Hey, I’m just thinking out loud, okay? That sim at the sweatshop described her
to a T: she’s lost, she’s sick, she’s blown up. So we know she’s staying here.
She’s just not here now.
Probably going stir crazy here alone
all day.”

 
          
“All right.
Here’s what we’ll do. Bring in the others and we’ll do a sweep of the building.
If we don’t find her we’ll back off and put the place under twenty-four-hour
watch. When she returns, we nab her.”

 
          
Meerm hear mans go way but still not
move.
Still fraid.
Meerm must stay in sim building.
Mans will get Meerm. Hurt Meerm if try leave. Meerm so sad she cry.

 
          
SUSSEX COUNTY
,
NJ

 
          
Luca wanted to skip this—he had far
more pressing things to do than listen to Sinclair-1 yammer. But the man had
said he was calling this late meeting specifically to address a security issue.
In addition to everything else going on, SimGen security was still his
responsibility.

 
          
But he didn’t have to arrive on time.
He was punctual by nature, and his years in Special Forces had reinforced that,
so it took considerable effort to force
himself
to
walk slowly down the hall, pacing himself to arrive at least three minutes
late.

 
          
Luca balled his fists. Coming up
empty in the sim crib this afternoon still
rankled
him. Fury and disappointment had mixed into a combustible compound in his
bloodstream. His head felt like a ticking bomb. He’d left four men to watch the
building—all sides, all day, all night—but he had a gnawing premonition that
the missing sim wouldn’t be back.

 
          
Then, just fifteen minutes ago,
Lister calls, supposedly concerned about the well-being of the sim because he
hadn’t heard any word on her. Luca had had to eat some bitter crow.

 
          
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Lister
then proceeded to twist the knife: “Someone handed you the address where she
was staying and she ducked you? If a monkey can outwit you, how can we expect
you to find out
who’s
behind the woman and her
lawyer?”

 
          
Don’t worry, Luca thought as he
approached the door to Sinclair-1’s office. She’s next on my list. And I know
just how I’m going to handle her.
As soon as I finish with
these assholes…

 
          
When he stepped into the office he
found only two of the usual crew in attendance: Both Sinclairs were present,
but Abel Voss was missing.

 
          
“Mr. Portero,” Sinclair-1 said as
soon as the door closed. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

 
          
“The wait is over,” Luca replied. He
wanted out of here as quickly as possible, so he pushed right to the subject,
“You mentioned a security matter?”

 
          
“Yes, Mr. Portero. Were you aware
that we had an attempted break-in this afternoon?”

 
          
“Of course.”
A group of sim huggers had tried to run the front gate. His men had detained
them until the State Police arrived. “They’re in jail.”

 
          
“How gratifying
that you know.
But my question is,
Where
were
you?”

 
          
“Busy with other matters.”

 
          
“Matters more important than the
security of this campus? Security here is your number-one priority. There are
murderous bioterrorists running around out there, slaughtering humans and
sims
, and yet when this group tried to attack us, you were
nowhere to be found.”

 
          
“Harmless nobodies,” Luca said,
allowing a sneer to work its way onto his face. What an old woman he was.

 
          
“Lucky for us.
But with you hiding out somewhere, there’s no telling what damage we might have
suffered if they’d been the
SLA
.”

 
          
A flash of anger added heat to the
pressure pushing against his eardrums. Hiding? Had this empty suit just accused
him of hiding?

 
          
“Easy, Mercer,” said Sinclair-2,
turning his head to look at Luca. This was the first sign of life he’d shown.

 
          
With difficulty Luca kept his voice
level. “But they weren’t the
SLA
.”

 
          
“But they could have been!”
Sinclair-1 said. He pointed over his shoulder at the darkening hills visible
through the oversized picture window behind him. “The
SLA
could be out there now, in the trees, readying an assault.”

 
          
“They’re not, and they never will
be.” Luca had had just about enough of playing games with these two. “I
guarantee it.”

 
          
Sinclair-1’s eyebrows rose halfway to
his forehead. “You guarantee it? How interesting. You’re clairvoyant?”

 
          
“No,” he gritted. “I’m the
SLA
.”

 
          
Immediately he wished he hadn’t said
it.

 
          
“This is no time for sick humor,”
Sinclair-1 said.

 
          
Luca knew from the dubious expression
on the CEO’s face that he still had a chance to take it back, but decided
against it. Fuck ’em. He stepped up to Sinclair-1’s desk, rested his hands on
its cool onyx surface, and leaned forward, literally getting in the other man’s
face.

 
          
“That was not any kind of humor.”

 
          
“What?”
The voice
from his right, Sinclair-2, on his feet, his face pale.
“You?”

 
          
“Ellis, he’s joking.”

 
          
Luca fixed Sinclair-1 with his gaze.
“Have you ever known me to joke?”

 
          
The CEO wavered,
then
took a step back, his eyes wide.

 
          
Movement to Luca’s right.
“Monster!”
Sinclair-2 charging, face distorted with fury.
Luca pivoted, drove a fist into his gut, and that was all it took. The man
doubled over, then dropped to his knees, gasping.

 
          
“Dear, God! Ellis! Are you all
right?”

 
          
The kneeling man, still clutching his
belly with one hand while the other clutched the arm of the sofa for support,
shook his head. His voice was a half-strangled whisper. “I’ll never be all
right.”

 
          
Sinclair-1 stared at Luca. “Why? In
God’s name,
why ?”

 
          
“To find your
million-dollar sim.”

 
          
“For what?”
Sinclair-2 said as he hauled himself back into the couch. He sat hunched over,
rubbing his belly.
“To harvest her organs along with the
rest?”

 
          
“No.
To give her to
you two.”

 
          
“Why would we be interested?”

 
          
“Because she’s
pregnant.”

 
          
A pause as the two brothers glanced
at each other,
then
stared at Luca.

 
          
Sinclair-1 snorted. “Impossible!”

 
          
“So I’ve been told.” Luca shrugged.
“And maybe that’s true in theory. But I deal in facts, and everything I’ve
discovered about this particular sim confirms that she is pregnant.”

 
          
“How on earth did you find out about
her?”

 
          
Might as well tell
them the whole story, Luca thought.
Well, most of it.

 
          
“It started with a phone call last
month. A woman said she had to speak to Mercer Sinclair right away, said she
had information that would affect the entire future of SimGen. That sounded
like a security matter to me so I took the call and—”

 
          
“And pretended to be me?”

 
          
“Of course.
The woman, whose name I later learned was Eleanor Bryce, a Ph.D. in
microbiology, told me she was in possession of a pregnant sim.”

 
          
“You accepted that?” Sinclair-2 said.
His color was returning along with his voice, but pure hatred gleamed in his
eyes.
“Just like that?”

 
          
Portero returned his stare. You want
another try for a piece of me, fancy man? Next time I spread your nose across
your face.

 
          
“Of course not.
In an involved back-and-forth that took almost two weeks she sent enough
information to convince our people that she could be telling the truth.”

 
          
“Your people!”
Sinclair-1 now.
“The ones in our Basic Research
facility, I suppose.
Why not ours?”

 
          
“We were going to bring in your
people later, but first we had to secure this sim. The Bryce woman made enough
slips during our communications to allow me to pinpoint her location. When she
presented her ultimatum I decided it was time to move.”

 
          
“Ultimatum?”
Sinclair-1 said.

 
          
That’s not what you should be asking
me, Luca thought. Why
aren’t
either of you asking the
right question?

 
          
Because he was dying to lay the
answer on them…and watch both the Sinclair brothers’ hair
turn
white before his eyes.

 
          
Luca said, “She wanted to sell us the
sim.”

 
          
“Sellus?
Sell us something that already belonged to us? What did you tell her?”

 
          
“Since I was pretending to be you, I
said exactly that,
then
I asked her how much she
wanted. She told me to bid. And she warned me not to be ‘chintzy’—her
word—because there’d be another bidder: the Arata-jinruien Corporation.”

 
          
Sinclair-1 pounded a fist on his
desktop.
“Those bandits?
Outrageous!”

 
          
“Wait just a minute,” Sinclair-2
said, holding up a hand. “Let’s take a step back here.”

 
          
Here it comes, Luca thought. His gut
tingled with anticipation.

 
          
“Let’s just say,” Sinclair-2
continued, but he spoke to his brother, as if Luca weren’t there, “that this
Bryce woman, through hormone treatments or a recombinant patch, did somehow
manage to induce a female sim to produce a fertilizable ovum. That will cause
SimGen problems because it means people will be able to breed their own
sims—and no one on this planet wants that less than I do—but it doesn’t
invalidate our patent on the sim genome. So—”

 
          
Not the question!

 
          
“She didn’t do anything to the sim,”
Luca snapped. “She’s a microbiologist.
Knows nothing about
reproductive medicine.”

 
          
“How can you be sure?” Sinclair-1
said.

 
          
“She told me.”

 
          
Sinclair-1 barked a laugh.

 
          
Luca glared at him. “At the time I
questioned her she was loaded up with a drug that made her incapable of lying.”

 
          
“The compound mentioned in the
autopsy report,” Sinclair-2 said, his tone dripping contempt. “Did you torture
them before or after you had your information?”

 
          
“That was just window dressing, to
muddy the waters while I eliminated everyone with firsthand knowledge about the
pregnancy. I didn’t know what the
sims
knew, but I
didn’t want any loose ends, so they were removed too.”

 
          
“Dear God, why?”
Sinclair-2 said. “A pregnant sim, even if it were possible, opens up a can of
worms, but it’s not worth the lives of three people and a dozen
sims
!”

 
          
Here’s the moment, Luca thought.
Time to rock your world.

 
          
“It does if the father of the sim’s
baby is human.”

 
          
Silence, a moment of glorious,
absolute silence in the office as the Sinclair brothers froze. Luca could have
been looking at a photograph, or an elaborate sculpture.
Then
the thump of Sinclair-1 dropping heavily into his chair as if the bones in his
legs had suddenly dissolved.

 
          
Luca inhaled the mixture of shock and
terror filling the air. Moments like this made life worth living.