Anew: Book Three: Entwined (28 page)

Ian

W
alking into the Operations Center, I’m not in the
best mood. Blue balls will do that to a man. But I refocus abruptly when I see
that Norris is waiting for me.

The Doc and I adjourn to a nearby
conference room where we can speak privately. I motion to Gab and Hollis to
join us.

He gets right to it. “We’ve found
the explanation for the skunky data. It looked wrong because we weren’t seeing
what we expected to in the cells. Instead, we were seeing something else.”

“What?” Gab asks.

“Telomeres, as in too many of
them.”

Our blank looks tell him that a further
explanation is needed.

“Telomeres are the caps at the end
of each strand of our DNA. They’re like the plastic tips on shoelaces. Without
them, the DNA becomes too frayed to do its job, namely keep our bodies
functioning by creating new cells through cellular division. Every time a cell
divides, a bit of telomere breaks off. Eventually there aren’t any left. That’s
when we age and die.”

I’m following him, I think. I just
have no idea where he’s going. “When you say there are too many telomeres--”

“Too many for a man Davos’ age,”
Norris says. “The way I see it, there are two possible explanations. For
decades, longevity researchers have been looking for the Holy Grail of life
extension, a way to replenish the telomeres themselves so that our cells can go
on renewing. The problem is that every attempt to fool with them has triggered
run-away cell division, a.k.a. cancer. But that’s not to say that someone
couldn’t have finally cracked it. Davos was rich and powerful enough that if a
way has been found, he could have gotten access to it.”

“And the other explanation?” I ask.
“You said there were two.”

“Yeah, well, the other one really
sucks. It could be that the cells contain Davos’ DNA but with the telomeres of
a much younger man because what we’ve really got in Medical is a clone.”

My stomach clenches. This is my
nightmare ever since the club, that the bastard just won’t die.

 “Go on.”

“The telomere length indicates an
age of about thirty,” Norris says, “which is compatible with what we know of
the history of human cloning. It was certainly underway before then but thirty
years ago the development of gestation chambers changed everything. Besides
being a boon for infertile couples and a life-saver for preemies, it meant that
clones could be maintained indefinitely in a physically healthy state. That
made them of immensely more value to their owners.”

“So you think that Davos had a
clone created thirty years ago and used him a few days ago to fake his own
death?” Gab asks.

“I think it’s a possibility,”
Norris says. “Although, like I said, it sucks.”

‘Is there any way to know for
sure?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I wish there
was but biologically a clone is just a human being. Wake one up, give it a
chance to live and learn, and you’re not going to find any differences between
us.”

It occurs to me that Doc’s attitude
is exactly what I hope other people will come to accept. Curious to see how far
it really goes, I ask, “What if I told you that clones are capable of
intermittent consciousness while in the gestation chamber?”

His brows draw together. I can’t
blame him for wondering how I could possibly know that but he just shrugs. “Honestly,
I wouldn’t be surprised. Some coma victims who recover report that they could
hear voices, even see things going on around them. There’s no reason I can
think of why that wouldn’t happen with clones.”

His gaze sharpens. He looks at me
speculatively. “I guess it’s a good thing what they’re saying on the news today
about them getting human rights.”

“Yeah,” Gab says with a glance at
me. “It’s a good thing.” She takes Norris by the elbow and nudges him toward
the door. “Thanks for the info, Doc. We’ll handle it from here.”

When the three of us are alone,
Hollis says, “So Plan B?”

I nod. “You hard what Doc said. We’ve
got to assume that Davos is still alive. Whatever it takes to shut that fucker
down once and for all, that’s what we do.”

“We’ve got surveillance on every
resource he’s ever used,” Gab says. “Clarence is trawling the net--”

“Davos won’t go that route,” I say.
“Not this time. He’ll stay off the grid, lie low, he won’t touch a piece of technology.
We have to figure out where it’s possible to do that.” I pause. “And what he
intends to do next.”

Now that the human rights of clones
have been acknowledged, Davos’ intention to use Amelia in order to recover the
customized neural imprinting technology that made her possible is pointless.
Any dream--or more rightly nightmare--that he had of replacing normal humans with
slaves custom designed to have no will of their own is gone for good.

But that doesn’t mean he’s giving
up, far from it. Facing the ruin of his grand plan for humanity, there’s just
one goal left for the megalomaniac sadist.

Vengeance.

And one way to get it.

Amelia.

Every instinct I possess tells me
to throw her over my shoulder, carry her off to the highest reaches of the
fortress that is Pinnacle House, and lock her away there until I have
personally choked the life out of Davos and put his sorry carcass in the
ground.

But I’m just a little smarter than
I was a few weeks ago. Smart enough at least to know that if I try any such thing,
I’m going to have the mother of all battles on my hands. My intended will not
go quietly.

There’s another way to deal with
the situation. I can explain what’s happened. Sweet reason will prevail. Amelia
will see things my way and go along with what I want.

In an alternate universe, maybe.
No, probably not even there.

“Boss--?” Gab says. She and Hollis
are watching me, and they both look a little worried.

I drag myself out of the maze of
conflicting emotions that Amelia inspires--love, adoration, frustration, dread
at the thought of not being able to protect her. Fear curls in my belly.

“Sorry,” I say, “just running
through the options. Whatever Davos is planning, it’s likely to go down here in
the city. That means he can’t be very far away.”

Abruptly, a thought occurs to me. How
to make contact with elements in the city that might be uniquely positioned to
discover Davos’ whereabouts.

I leave Hollis and Gab to ramp up
the contingency plan we’ve already prepared and go to make a quick call.
Half-an-hour later, I’m sitting in Edward’s office downtown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “Fuck,” Edward says. We’ve gone
over the details that I started briefing him about on the link. His conclusion
matches my own. “Davos is alive.”

I nod. “We have to proceed on that
assumption. Also that he’s here and he intends to act. We both know whom he’ll
go after.”

For a moment, Amelia’s brother
looks struck with dread for her but he rallies quickly. “I made some calls
while you were on your way here. The people you’re about to meet are willing to
help. I just want to make sure that you understand they’re taking a big risk by
doing so.”

“I appreciate that and I’ll do
everything possible to safeguard them.”

“All right then.” Edward stands and
turns his back. He’s facing a wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that extends
across the width of his office. I don’t see what he does but I do hear a click.
A portion of the shelves slides open, revealing a hidden door.

Smiling at my surprise, he says, “You
never know what you’re going to find in a building as old as this one. Some of
its best features don’t even show up on the original blueprints.”

“I take it your forbearers had a
healthy appreciation for privacy?”

“You could say that. The McClellan
fortune was founded by smugglers who ran contraband into the port of New York
during the War of 1812. A few generations later, they’d become bankers but some
old habits die hard.”

He stands aside so that I can
proceed him into a small, windowless room concealed behind the bookshelves. Despite
its compact size, it’s comfortably furnished with a roll top desk, several wingback
chairs, and a Chesterfield couch. Edward follows as the door clicks closed.

“Where are the others?” I ask.

“They’re coming.”

He’s barely spoken when a panel in
the opposite wall swings open and a woman steps into the room. For me, the sun
rises and sets around Amelia but even I can appreciate that the new arrival is
stunningly beautiful.

This despite the fact that she’s
dressed in a drab worker’s uniform. Her ebony hair is scraped into a bun that
only serves to emphasize the purity of her features. High cheekbones hint at an
Asian heritage but her large, thick-fringed eyes and warm, olive complexion
suggest that she could be a Latina.

“Violeta,” Edward says softly and
in that moment, I know why he’s kept my sister at arm’s length.

It isn’t Marianne he wants, it’s
this woman who can’t quite contain the heat in her eyes as her gaze meets his.
I recognize that look. I’ve seen it in Amelia’s eyes when we’re alone.

It’s gone by the time Violeta turns
her attention in my direction. With a tilt of her head that hints at formidable
pride and intelligence, she says, “Mister Slade, how nice to see you back in
the city.”

I can’t quite suppress a smile. No
society hostess has ever welcomed me more graciously. “Thank you, Miss…?”

“My name is Violeta Vargas.”
Looking at Edward again, she asks, “Is Jacob coming?”

“He is but he said to start without
him if we had to.”

Before we can do so, the panel
opens again and a slender, dark-haired young man steps into the room. From the
motley collection of clothes he wears and the fading bruises on his face, I
have to assume that he’s a scavenger. One who’s had a bad run-in with someone
recently.

With a glance at me and a nod to
Edward, he says, “If I’d realized how much trouble you lot have killing one
man, my lot would have been in charge a long time ago.”

“The one man is Davos,” Edward
says. He appears to take no offense at being spoken to in such a way. “He’s
proving to have more lives than the proverbial cat.”

Jacob shrugs. “Yeah, well, he’s not
my problem, is he?”

“If you feel that way, why are you
here?” I demand.

Sharp brown eyes narrow in my
direction. I’m aware of being assessed with the verdict still out on whether I
pass or not.

“I got caught topside a few weeks
ago,” Jacob says. “MPS fuckers were having a fine time beating the shit out of
me. Amelia McClellan stepped in and put a stop to it. I pay my debts.”

I’m not surprised to learn what
Amelia did, not at all. I’m just grateful that she hasn’t been involved in more
such confrontations. Her sense of fairness is matched only by her courage. I
admire both but together they can be damn dangerous.

I shift my gaze to Violeta. “What
about you? Why are you here?”

She shakes her head. “We don’t have
time for me to list all the crimes Davos has committed against my people. They
start with the enslavement and abuse of numerous workers, both men and women,
and they go all the way to multiple murders. Those are just the ones I know
about. He deserves to die many times over for what he’s done. But beyond that,
while he lives, nothing will change for the better in this city.”

I can’t help but be impressed. Whatever
her background, Violeta shows every sign of being a born leader. I’d hire her
in a heartbeat but apparently she’s already got the job she wants. With the
one-day strike a clear success, I have to wonder what else she’s planning.

“Satisfied?” Edward asks me. He
looks impatient to get on with it.

Slowly, I nod. “Davos is here, I’m
sure of it. But he’s gone dark. So long as he steers clear of any technology,
we’re essentially blind.” I look from her to Jacob. “I’m hoping that you
aren’t.”

The two exchange a glance. I’m struck
by the fact that they know each other. Who brought them together in the first
place? Edward? Or did they find him? Whichever the case, the existence of such
an unlikely alliance is bound to change things in the city, if not far beyond.

“We might be able to help,” Violeta
says at length. “But what happens if we do? What then?”

“You get me a lead on where Davos
is and I’ll take it from there. I promise you, this time he won’t escape.”

Whatever they see in my face must
be enough. With a nod, Jacob says, “Right then. You’ll hear from me.”

With no further elaboration, he
disappears back through the concealed door. As he does, I glimpse a tunnel
vanishing into the shadows beyond. My mood lifts slightly as I consider the
evidence that Edward’s forbearers really didn’t give up the family trade just
because they became bankers.

“We’ll do our best,” Violeta tells me.
To Edward, she says, “I’ll be in touch.”