Senescence (Jezebel's Ladder Book 5) (4 page)

Stu pointed to the
tennis-ball-sized robot with the monetary offer. “I grant free access to all
three of you as long as you continue to transmit everything that happens to me.
Someone just tried to kill me, and I want witnesses to how I’m treated.”

The drones quickly agreed to the
deal.

Reporters and players shouted
questions as the guards dragged Stu toward the sidelines.

The referee gestured for the guards
to halt. “Let him answer. The ratings meter for the event is still climbing.”

“How old are you?” asked a tall
girl in a bikini.

Stu felt compelled to brag,
“Eighteen, and I’m a pilot.”

“Why did
Sanctuary
lose
contact with the UN Space Agency five years after leaving the Solar System?”
asked a graying correspondent with a drone hovering over his shoulder.

I didn’t know we had been in
contact at all.
“We were assisting an alien race on Labyrinth, a moon
similar to Earth.”

“What were the aliens like?” asked
another player.

“Pandas with spears.” So many
people crowded around that he lost track of who was asking the questions.

“Were they the aliens who gave us
the Pages?”

“No. The Magi are different. We’ve
never seen them. That’s the way uplift works.”

“Pandas? You’re kidding. How do you
expect us to believe that?”

“I speak their language.” Stu
cupped his hands to his head like panda ears and recited the Ballad of
Shuulagar a line at a time, first in Labyrinth Panda and then English. He bent
his symbolic ears at the emotional parts of the epic poem. By the time Stu
reached the code of strength, which protected women and children, a black van
had arrived. The ominous vehicle kicked up a cloud of sand as it hissed to a
halt. People tapped their phones in puzzlement as they were disconnected. The
wall of TV screens at the end of the bleachers filled with static.

In his briefings Stu had been
warned that the military blacked out recording devices when they were about to
violate human rights and endanger civilians. He knelt on the ground and
reaffixed his helmet. His own breathing sounded loud in his own ears.
I hope
no one else gets injured.

Storm troopers with covered faces
leapt out of the van. Stu broadcast from his external speakers. “I am not
resisting. I have no weapons. This armor is to protect me against high gravity
and disease. I am the legal representative of the
Sanctuary
colony.”

Laura Zeiss reclined in her luxury suite at the annual
shareholder’s meeting in LA. She was there to receive an award for her
hundredth patent application, but her grandfather, Tetsuo Mori, would claim the
glory. She had to wear thin slippers and a tight ponytail to make her look shorter
than him when they shared the stage.

She hated these dog-and-pony shows.
The bulletproof jacket squeezed her chest like a compression bandage, making
work difficult. Her deadlines hadn’t changed, but she had limited access to her
Tokyo lab. Tired of staring at the same DNA strands on her wall, she rotated
the dataset for a fresh perspective.
Nothing
. She felt so limited
without her think tank.

Laura expanded the projection to
fill the ceiling and had the virtual camera fly through. Today she was looking
for gene patterns that could increase intelligence without side effects like
nearsightedness. She tagged three areas in red for further study.

“Dinner time.” When she heard her
mother at the door, Laura turned off the projector. The complex structures of the
DNA might send her mother into a compute trance, and then Laura would have to
spend the rest of the day talking her down.

Laura opened the door so Kaguya
Mori could bring in the dining cart of
dim sum.
Mother never cooked. She
could be distracted too easily and burn down the building. However, she chose
the food personally. Because of Kaguya’s potential to cause embarrassment,
Tetsuo Mori kept his forty-three-year-old daughter a virtual prisoner. No one
outside a small inner circle was allowed to meet her.

Her long, dark hair and exotic eyes
made her a breathtakingly beautiful mixture of East and West. Laura wished she
looked more like her mother.

“How has work been going?” Kaguya
asked.

“When the slaves complained they
had to make too many bricks, Grandfather took away their straw.”

Pouring tea for them both, her
mother halted briefly at the acidic remark. “You must show him respect even
when you disagree … especially then.”

“To him, I’m a profitable
experiment who shouldn’t overstep her bounds,” Laura snapped.

Blinking, Kaguya asked, “You know
about Project Antarctic Tern?”

I’m a project. That confirms it.
Freak-enstein.
Laura struggled to hide her revulsion from her mother. “I
know you had nothing to do with it. You were practically catatonic. When I confronted
Nana, she admitted I was a science experiment designed to bring you out of your
compute trance, to give you someone to anchor to.”

Kaguya touched her daughter’s face.
“It worked. I love you so much, and every time I see you, I’m reminded of the
kindest man I ever knew.”

Her lover, Conrad Zeiss, the
great traitor and astronaut who went missing two decades ago. This family never
did anything shy of the epic scale.
Laura had even been named after the
man’s mother to honor him. She had a hard time beatifying a man who married one
woman and impregnated another the same year. Men, as a rule, were scum. With
her Empathic abilities, she always knew what they wanted—sex, money, power, and
sometimes a little punishment. Under her mother’s skilled tutelage, she learned
to provide the promise of each to lure men to do whatever she wanted.

“How did you find out about the
project?” Kaguya asked, sitting beside her, head down and hands folded.

“Please. I do genetic engineering
for a living. I have gray eyes, and yours are brown. I dye my hair black and
wear colored contact lenses to fit into Japanese culture better. You’re a
world-renowned musician, while I’m practically tone deaf. I didn’t get your
Out-of-Body skills either. When I confronted Nana, she admitted that I was a
result of Grandfather’s earlier experiments to give me all the advantages he
could offer. Unfortunately, tinkering with one trait can disable another.”

Her mother remained silent, so
Laura kept rambling. “Just like our intelligence-enhancement product line. IQ
is the most fragile and nebulous manipulation we have. If I encourage one
attribute, it might boost a child fifty points but increase neurological
disorders by 30 percent.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Laura shook her head. Her first
patent at age fourteen had been deduced using her Pattern Recognition talent.
Each trait after that had been more difficult to spot in the genome forest
until her mother told her the secret.
I get smarter around other people
.
Other Quantum Computers could borrow from Actives to increase brain power, but
Laura could use anyone. In a room full of medical geniuses, genetic solutions
would leap off the page.

“With several weeks of work, I
might be able to graft one of these strings onto the current ‘plus twenty IQ’
bundle and safely gain another three to five points. That’s if Grandfather
stops interrupting me to consult on trials.” In a room full of top litigators,
her talent could find the winning strategy every time.

“You shouldn’t be a lawyer,” Kaguya
said, agitated. “They might show you accounting data or other numerical
patterns.” Even simple math could send an unanchored Quantum Computer talent
into a trance of no return. Laura had no one to anchor her. If she went into
navel-staring mode, so would her mother.

Laura tried to reassure her.
“Relax. I’m an empath, so they won’t let me ask questions during a trial. I
have to sit behind a screen so participants can’t see me. I help select the
jury and tell when witnesses are lying. I also advise the counsel on the
science of genetic engineering. No math.”

“Do they know who you are?”

“Definitely.” People in the
judicial system called Laura by the middle name Nana had given her—Salome, the
woman who seduced a king to have John the Baptist beheaded for telling the
truth. She had perverted justice and ruined men’s lives, but she did it for
family. Her grandparents had shaped her to be a corporate weapon. “We rarely
lose when I assist, but I always make Grandfather pay a steep price when he
takes me away from you and my work.”

“Why don’t you like my father?”

“He’s a bottomless cesspool of
greed,” Laura said, knowing her words were probably being recorded. “When I was
younger, I considered killing him, but Nana told me she would eliminate me if I
came within a meter of him.”
For a while, I played with tailored diseases
spread by sneezes that would only kill old Japanese men, but he might have infected
someone else before he croaked.
“She confessed to having several more
embryos just like me. If I misbehaved, I could always be replaced.”

Kaguya hugged her and apologized.
“No child should be treated like that.”

“Please,” Laura said, stoking her
mother’s silken hair. “Anyone on this planet would switch places with me in a
second. I’m in the top millionth of the population for wealth. Our servants
have servants. I can eat anything, travel anywhere, and never need to work
another day in my life.”

“But you do. Why?”

Boredom?
Gazing out her
enormous window, Laura answered, “In spite of the corporate pig sty, I help
people every day. I’m literally carving my initials on the future of mankind,
managing millions of years of evolution in the span of one lifetime.” She
paused, allowing herself to dream. “Someday, I’ll be able to do it free of
Grandfather’s iron glove.”

Her badge beeped. Tetsuo Mori’s
voice boomed, “Laura, dear, please stop by my booth.”

Mother and daughter glanced at each
other. This couldn’t be a coincidence. As Laura left to answer the summons,
Kaguya grabbed her hand. “Don’t let him use me against you.”

Ten years ago, Tetsuo had punished
the pair by keeping them apart until Kaguya was a drooling zombie, painting on
the wall with her own baby food. “You stood up to him for me. Now it’s my
turn.”

Refusing to release the hand, her
mother said, “There’s more you don’t know.”

“I know all I need to for now. I
love you.” Laura made certain her suit jacket and badge were in place before
jogging to the Mori’s booth overlooking the amphitheater.

The stockholders’ meeting had begun on a Friday, after the
normal close of business on major exchanges. Even so, Laura saw the stock
ticker on the wall going wild. The sales volume jumped through the roof, for
both sales and purchases.
This can’t be good.

The old man hunched behind his
desk, talking to Koku, a formidable AI. Koku eliminated whole layers of middle
management, allowing her grandfather to keep a personal rein on more of his
empire than any tyrant in history. The machine could also raise a defensive
bubble around him in an instant. “Looking lovely as ever, my dear.” He wore an
oxygen mask because his lungs had been burned by an assassination attempt five
years ago. His company had merged with Fortune Enterprises during his
hospitalization.

Laura bowed respectfully.
“Mori-san, how may I serve the family?”

He gestured to the walls filled
with news reports. Banners under the talking heads varied greatly. “A new era
of alien technology or war?”

“Fortune stockholder shot down over
Pacific.”

“Local SWAT apprehends the
astronaut.”

Mother’s dream just turned into
a shit storm.
“
Sanctuary
has returned?”

“So they claim,” Mori croaked.

To add another layer to the circus,
Mori enabled audio on the Fortune news feed. The newscaster said, “Then federal
law enforcement trumped them and took custody in the parking lot. The military
now has seized the crash site and is questioning witnesses. Meanwhile, the UN
Space Agency is appealing to the US State Department for jurisdiction. Traffic
was snarled over the entire grid as news crews and crowds tried to get a look
at the man from
Sanctuary
.”

On screen, eight men in combat gear
shoved a man in archaic space armor toward a military aircraft.

“Only one man?” Laura asked. “Who?”

In answer, Mori brought up another
news channel featuring a city official. “We refuse to indulge in rampant
speculation. Without a genetic test we can’t confirm this man is a child of
Captain Llewellyn. Even if he proves to be Lou’s child, it in no way validates
his claim of being from space. Lord knows that man slept with enough women here
on Earth.”

Mori muted the chaos. “CEO Hollis
has ordered the Fortune media division to keep cameras on Stewart Llewellyn at
all costs.”

Laura nodded. “If we look away for
an instant, he could disappear.”

“Our floaters don’t have the speed
to follow that aircraft, so she declared a bounty. We crowd-sourced tracking
data from the photosphere until we pulled in aerial surveillance from our
aerospace division.”

“They’re taking him to a military
detention facility,” Laura guessed, recognizing the model of the VTOL
transport.

“Yes. Koku shows five bases within
range of that aircraft. I’m sending a member of our legal team to each as a
favor to Ms. Hollis.”

“We built that transport,” Laura
said. “You already know who owns it.”

“Correct. It’s registered to the US
Air Force. Edwards is the closest base—where you’ll be going.”

“What do you need?” she asked.
“Obviously it’s something you don’t want the rest of the board to see.”

“A unique challenge to your
inestimable talents.”

The more he flattered, the more she
knew she would hate the assignment. “The courtroom bores me. I earn more for
you in the lab, and we both know it.”

The old man chuckled, wheezing with
the effort. “If you had been a man, you could have ruled the world.”

“As a multi-talent, if I’d been a
man, I would have died in the womb.” Ninety-five percent of the attempts did.

Mori raised a finger. “Ah, the
heart of your mission. The young man you will be defending has circumvented
that problem. Find out how, and our company will be able to name its price.” He
handed her a folio of fact sheets and photos to bring her up to speed.

“Is he a scientist with a new
breakthrough?” She flipped through the stack idly. To reach the court date on
time, she would need to take the orbital shuttle. Her internal clock would be
off by almost half a day.

“No. He carries the answer in his
very flesh. Stewart Llewellyn was born of parents who possessed at least two
space-navigation talents each, plus sensitivity to the Collective Unconscious.
”

“Five
talents … and male?” she said, raising her voice in surprise. “That’s never
happened before.”
Grandfather is after the Holy Grail of Active genetics
.

“Bring me a biological sample.”

“I can’t just steal it,
Grandfather. You know the rules. The media will be all over me. He’ll have to
voluntarily
give me a substantial sample—blood or semen.” She had never slept with an
Active before. It was the only thing her mother had ever forbidden. The dangers
from pregnancy or accidental bonding were too great.

Mori shrugged. “You’ve never had
trouble extracting either type of sample from men when it suited you.”

Clouding, she said, “I’m not a
whore.”

“All my lawyers say that. What’s
your price?” Blood relation and human kindness didn’t matter to Mori. He cut
straight to the chase.

Laura looked at the defendant on a
beach video. He had an open, trusting face. As someone who had been raised in
isolation, he would be simple to bend to her will. She wanted to cry, but told
her grandfather, “Freedom for my mother and myself. If I get your sample from
this spaceman, then you let us move out.”

He steepled his fingers. “Define
freedom.”

“First, I earn 2 percent of all
product revenues derived from his DNA.” A finder’s fee was standard, but not
for such a large windfall.

“A hundred million flat,” he
countered.

Laura pursed her lips and nodded.
“Second, the company returns my reproductive rights.”

“Fine,” he said. “That will end
your allowance.” Mori provided her a steady income for not flooding the market
with her multi-talented DNA. Most children enhanced by the company had to sign
such contracts.

“No interference from you ever
again.”

“Sooner or later, you’ll want a
favor from me.”

“That’s my problem,” Laura said.

“When I die, you could inherit the
company,” he tempted.

She shook her head. “You’re like a
vampire. You’ll outlive us all, especially if you gain access to
Sanctuary
regeneration pods.”

“Perhaps.”

“Put our deal in writing. Do I need
to free the astronaut?”

Mori shrugged. “That doesn’t matter
if you can get the sample without it.”

“Agreed.”

“That’s my Salome.” He insisted
they shake hands on the deal.

She wanted to take a shower.

****

Because she was cute and
a high-ranking member of one of the world’s largest defense contractors, Laura
managed to bluff her way onto Edwards and into the offices of the Judge
Advocate General. Over the next few hours, while she and a couple lawyers tried
to navigate the maze of bureaucracy, the video of Stu speaking Panda on the
beach trended upward. First, governments scrambled to analyze the veracity of
the recording. Next, every linguist on the planet shared the video, calling
their colleagues regardless of the hour.

The
legal clerk in the waiting room kept glaring at the required empath badge on
Laura’s suit.
Lawyers hate people who can tell when they’re lying. In his
case, he doesn’t want to agree to anything I ask for in case I’m trying to
influence him.
Flirting and flattery didn’t work either. He wouldn’t even
tell her where she could refill her water bottle. The tufts of hair on either
side of his balding head reminded Laura of Krusty the Clown.

Laura
made online corporate donations to the World Wildlife Foundation and several
zoos in order to increase panda exposure in the media. As pandas rose in the
public consciousness, so did coverage of her client’s plight.

At
seven, the legal clerk informed her entourage, “We’re closed for the day. Come
back tomorrow.” The little man clearly relished the power.

“You
haven’t even charged Mr. Llewellyn,” she objected.

The
clerk shut down his workstation. “We’re allowed to hold anyone for twenty-four
hours—

longer if they’re an
enemy combatant.”

“He’s
an ambassador. You have no right to hold him.”

The
clerk replied, “We don’t recognize
Sanctuary
as an independent nation.”

“Then
how can he be an enemy?” she argued.

“Okay,
he’s out of uniform and guilty of espionage.”

“We
demand proof that Mr. Stewart is being treated humanely.”

“You’re
not allowed to speak to the prisoner for his own health. He’s in quarantine.”
The clerk locked his file drawer.

“Then
let us speak to him by video!” The last time she had used that tone with a man,
she had been holding a riding crop.

The
clerk considered for a moment. “No. As an enemy spy, he may attempt to
communicate state secrets.”

“A
spy does not announce himself on live TV. Let me see a live video feed of Mr.
Llewellyn in his cell.”

“Submit
your request tomorrow,” the clerk said, attempting to leave.

Laura
stepped into his path and read his nametag. “Mr. Abramowitz, if you walk out
that door without giving us a video feed, you will regret wasting my time.”

The
clerk evicted the legal team. “I have my orders.”

“I
tried to be nice. I hope you don’t live too far away because you’ll be driving
back here soon.”

****

Sitting in a jeep
outside the JAG offices, Laura called the head of Fortune security
, Mr.
Maurier. “The lawyers are shooting blanks here. Did your wife think of a
medical loophole we can use to get Llewellyn relocated?”

Maurier, originally one of the
elite Swiss Guard, had emigrated to the States to be with his wife, a world
expert in treating Page talents and helping them reach adulthood. “Lena says
they might move him to the Beverly Hills Hyperbaric Unit if air quality becomes
an issue.”

Laura shook her head. LA had
air-quality alerts almost daily. If the boy really had been raised in space,
breathing in LA would be like sucking on an exhaust pipe. Desperate,
she called a congressman she once had dated, who
phoned a golf buddy in Special Forces, who called in a favor.

Abramowitz
was back in an hour with an IP address. Angry, he told Laura, “You haven’t won.
We’re charging him tomorrow. They
will
break him in interrogation.”

Laura
entered the link address into her sleeve comp. Stewart was doing pushups on the
tile in tight, black underwear and a T-shirt. His arms and legs were ripped.
“Why have you taken his clothes?”

“We
confiscated the clothes he came with—standard procedure. It’s not our fault the
stubborn bastard refused to wear the prison jumpsuit.”

She
suppressed a smile.
I like him already.
“Has he complained about
anything since his ordeal began?”

“Sloppy
paint jobs. The baby blue wasn’t soothing enough for him.”

Blue discrimination means he has Mercy Llewellyn’s talent with gravity.
“Why aren’t they questioning him yet?” she asked.

The
clerk shrugged. “The prisoner seems too relaxed. He’s enjoying this too much.
They probably want to deprive him of sleep. Now will you please leave this
base?”

She left gracefully. There was
nothing she could do until the hearing. Her grandfather was assembling a legal
dream team of the best litigators money could buy. One of them was a former
prosecutor from The Hague. By obtaining proof of life, she had just established
herself as the head of Stewart’s legal team.