Lyon's Legacy: Catalyst Chronicles, Book One (10 page)

Chapter Ten

“Given any thought
to a name yet?” George asked later that evening. We sat on my cot, glasses of non-alcoholic wine in our hands.

“No Sean or John names,” I replied immediately. “I don’t even want names that start with J or S. We have to treat this child as a unique person f
rom the start.” I looked sideways at my soon-to-be husband. “Though we could name him after you…”

He shook his head. “It’ll be too confusing having two Georges around.”

I was determined to honor my George in some way, though. “What’s your middle name? You never told me.”

“Paul.”

I remembered one of the musicians who’d performed with Sean was named Paul. Sean had encountered other Pauls during his life, including two more musicians and a journalist, but the name was common enough not to have strong Sean associations. “Paul Harrison...Paul Lyon Harrison,” I said, testing the name. It sounded good to me. With a name like that, Paul could be whomever he wanted to be, not my uncle’s creature.

George nodded as if the matter was settled. “To Paul, then.”

We toasted our very young son. George finished his wine first and set the glass aside, then faced me again. “So, when are you going to tell your uncle? And what will you say?”

I scowled, the sweet
afternotes of the wine becoming harsh. “I’d rather not tell him anything until I have to. Why not just walk off the shuttle and show him my belly?”

George’s voice sharpened slightly. “You know this is only half the battle, Jo. He could still sue you and the doctors if you don’t turn over the DNA sequence—or even the child—t
o him.”

“That’s why I can’t say anything now. It’ll just give him more time to hire lawyers.”

“Perhaps we’d better hire one of our own, then.”

At least he was going to stick with me. I squeezed his hand.
“When we get close enough to our Earth, I’ll contact someone.”

I didn’t remind him I was a graduate student with more loans than lucre. I couldn’t afford a law student, let alone someone clever enough to compete with Jackass’s sharks. I had to find a way t
o bring Paul back onto the
Sagan
with me. If Jackass wanted my son, he’d have to travel across space to get him.

* * *

Between working on my dissertation—a project comparing how well a computer program to measure the genetic diversity of a species did against direct genetic tests—and coping with my pregnancy, the return trip to Earth felt much shorter than the outgoing one. Or perhaps it had something to do with my morning sickness during the first trimester. I ate crackers before getting out of bed; that helped, but it was still hard to muster an appetite. I went to bed early to counter the fatigue. I worked as hard as I could in the afternoons, though. I didn’t want Ferdie to think I was lazy.

“Using the head again, Jo?” he asked one morning. “What’s
it going to be like when you’re eight months along? Shall we just move your equipment in there, or will you let us use it too?”

By this point, I was in my middle trimester and past my morning sickness. I didn’t think I was using the head more than anyone
else. But before I could defend myself, Olivia looked up from the sequencer she was repairing. “Hey, Ferdie, did Lizabeth tell you both of us are going to get inseminated during layover?”

He paled. “Three pregnant women, in the same lab, at once?
Mein lieber Gott, nein
!” He rushed into his office and shut the door. Olivia and I looked at each other, then laughed.

I turned twenty-five a month before we were supposed to arrive on Earth. A message arrived from Dad while I was reviewing my data. He had shadows
under his eyes, but his smile seemed warm. “Happy birthday, my daughter. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to hear from you. I can hardly wait to hear more about your visit with Sean—and this George guy. I still find it hard to believe you’re going to be a mother when I keep picturing you as a little girl.” He paused. “I’ve tried talking to Jack about his project, but he insists on going through with it.” Another long pause. “We’ll discuss it when you return. I’m pretty busy with something else. Looking forward to seeing you soon. Love, Ian Lyon.”

I listened again, hoping I’d misheard. That was it? This was the most important thing I’d ever done, and he was too busy with some unnamed project to help me? I shouldn’t have bothered contacting him. I rest
ed my head on my arms, suddenly drained. I could be going through all of this for nothing.

George shook my shoulder. “Tired,
hon? Or is something wrong?”

I played my dad’s message for him. He looked at me as if he didn’t understand. “Is he always this busy
?”

“How would I know when I’ve barely spoken to him in the last seven years?” I shoved my handheld away. “He’s letting me down—again.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Maybe he’s got his own plan and doesn’t want to tell you in case someone intercepts the message.”

That was so far-fetched I couldn’t even smile.

“It’ll be OK, Jo. I promise. Don’t you have a doctor appointment?” He grinned. “Maybe we’ll get to see an ultrasound this time.”

I dragged myself next door, but Dr.
Allnan seemed distracted. She only gave us a brief glimpse of our little blob before continuing her exam.

“The baby’s fine,” she said. “But I got a message from Golden Helix this morning. They weren’t pleased we took the initiative from them, but they were very interested in our succe
ss. They want to meet with you when we return.”

I felt Paul flutter inside me for the first time. I put my hand over him, marveling at the movement.
Don’t worry, son
, I thought to him.
Mommy’s going to make sure everything’s going to be all right.

Mommy ne
ver was a good liar.

Chapter Eleven

A new wardrobe of maternity clothes waited for me in our Chicago hotel room. I’d had to borrow surgical scrubs while I was on the
Sagan
, and I was so sick of them I wanted to burn them. “I can’t wait to wear jeans again!” I said as I inspected them. The jeans were for the lab; I had ordered something more formal for the meeting with my old boss, World Music, and Uncle Jackass. I donned a pair of black maternity trousers, a black tunic, and a red blazer. I pulled my hair back from my face and secured it with a barrette. No more hiding who I was; let them see who they were dealing with.

George nodded approval as he looked me up and down. He wo
re a navy blue suit, neatly pressed, unlike the wrinkled lab coat I was used to seeing him wear. The only piece of clothing he was wearing that wasn’t new was his DNA-patterned tie.

“There’s just one thing missing.” He pulled a small box out of his bag an
d gave it to me. “I hope you like it.”

I knew what it was—my real engagement ring—but that didn’t stop a thrill racing through me as I opened the box. A brilliant diamond, flanked by my birthstone emeralds, winked at me from a white gold setting. Simple, b
ut it suited me. Plus it would last much longer than the tape ring George had given me.

“It’s beautiful.” I carefully worked it onto my finger and put my arms around him. “I wish we could stay here instead.”

“So do I,” he said, resting his head against mine. “But we can’t hide forever. Better to settle this now before Paul is born and they can take him from us.”

“No! I won’t let them!”

“Hush,” he said, stroking my hair. “It’s going to be all right.”

Too bad my mixed-up hormones didn’t believe that.

We arrived early at Golden Helix. Zoë waited in the reception room. This time, she wore yellow and black instead of pink and blue, and a guitar case rested by her chair. “Jo!” she said as she stood up and hugged me. “My, how you’ve changed.”

“Yeah, I’m huge.”

“You think you’re big now, just give yourself a couple of months.” She released me, then examined my face. “And how was it meeting Sean?”

“Indescribable. I thought I knew him, but he constantly surprised me.” I smiled. “But worth it all the same.”

“You’ll have to tell me every detail.” She picked up the guitar case. “I hope this isn’t presumptuous of me, but I thought you might be interested in this now.”

I stared at it for several seconds. Even after playing with Sean, it still brought back bad memories. “I’m
a geneticist, not a musician.”

Some of her energy drained away. “I know you don’t want to play professionally, but what about as a hobby?”

“We could play duets.” George half-smiled, making it hard for me to resist him.

I put my hands in my pockets. “I ca
n’t take yours,” I said to Zoë. “Don’t you play yourself?”

“I used to, but after I got married and had kids, I never had the time. All it does these days is
take up space. I had it tuned recently; it’s still in excellent condition. It just needs someone to play it.”

“Well, if you put it that way…I accept.” She passed the case to me; it felt heavy—yet right—in my hands. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

George tried to take the guitar case from me, but I refused to let him carry it. Just because I was pregnant d
idn’t mean I was handicapped. Besides, I knew I’d get a reaction out of my uncle if he saw me with a guitar.

He didn’t disappoint me. My uncle, Guzman, and a couple of suits from World Music were already seated, studying their handhelds. Uncle Jackass look
ed up as I entered; a smug smile spread over his face. “Welcome back, Joanna. Looks like the trip did you some good. So, are you finally ready to sign with World Music?”

I set the guitar down. “Not in this universe or in any alternate one. I want to do res
earch, not go on tour.”

“You know how many other musicians out there would kill for what I offered you?”

“Why didn’t you sponsor one of them? Or did you really think you could force me into the studio?”

“What’s this about forcing you into the studio, Joann
a?”

I’d heard that voice recently, but not live; it was my dad’s. I turned my head and stared at him, not quite believing he was truly there. He must have come from his PR firm; he wore a gray suit, and he was wired with his handheld. His brown eyes were
shadowed as he looked at me. I stared back. He hadn’t told me he would be here. Whose side was he taking, mine or Uncle Jackass’s?

“How are you, honey?” Dad asked quietly.

“Oh, Dad…” I used to think if I ever met my dad face-to-face, I’d curse him out. All the defiant speeches I’d rehearsed in my head now seemed petty. All I remembered was how good it had felt to reconnect with him after so many years.

As I turned toward Dad, Guzman cleared his throat. “If we’re ready to
get started....”

No time for hugs now. George, Dad, and I took seats across from the others. Catherine came in with refreshments; I reluctantly chose a glass of cranberry juice over coffee. The social niceties over, we got down to business.

Guzman spoke first, leaning forward and steepling his fingers. “Well, Jo, it’s obvious that you were successful in retrieving the alternate Sean Lyon’s DNA and that the doctors on board the
Sagan
were able to create a clone from the material. Congratulations. However, since you didn’t agree to become a surrogate mother prior to the pregnancy, the ownership of the child is murky.”

George squeezed my hand before I could spout some foul language at him. Even forcing myself to count to five didn’t calm me. But I tried to kee
p my voice level as I said, “I didn’t think you could own a child.”

Guzman narrowed his eyes. “This is a clone.”

“He’s still a human being, subject to certain rights.”

My dad cleared his throat. “Jack, isn’t there DNA left over? Why not go ahead and have a
nother woman bear a second Sean clone?”

I couldn’t hide my frown. Sure, that solution would spare Paul from Jack’s obsession, but then another innocent child would suffer instead. If that was Dad’s idea of helping, he should have stayed at his PR firm.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the businesspeople from World Music nodded. “The more, the merrier, like the Elvii twins we had created last year,” the man said. “Think what a draw we’d have if we had a group of Lyons!”

Probably not much; my cousins had tried m
aking an album together, but they quit halfway through. Zoë shook her head as if she agreed with me. “No, it would never work.” Her dangling earrings swung from side to side. “Sean had a dominant personality. His clones would never be able to work together; they wouldn’t mesh properly.”

“Perhaps we could train them to play different genres of music,” the female suit said. “Or if they both grow up liking Sean’s music, we can encourage a rivalry between them. There are a lot of possibilities here.”

Zoë leaned over to comment to her, and George whispered to me, “Would you accept that, Jo?”

Before I could answer, Uncle Jackass stood, and everyone fell silent. “There’s no need for that.” He spoke slowly, as if each word had to fade away before he could pronounce
the next one. “One clone of Sean is enough.” As he smiled at me, ice formed in my stomach. “Hers.”

Fear melted in the need to protect my so-vulnerable child. I crossed my arms over my enlarged belly. “You’ll have to get through me first.”

He stared at me for a moment, started to speak, then pressed his lips together. “As soon as the child is born—”

“I expect to be millions of miles from Earth.”

Jackass’s face grew red, but I played my trump card. “I had to find a new job anyway, so I joined the genetics lab on the
Sagan
, where my fiancé works.”

Uncle Jackass raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to take him into space! That’s insane! It’s not safe!”

“Neither is Earth, Uncle. If you don’t believe me, ask my mother. Of course, you’ll have to hire a psychic first….”

“Or I could just have you detained here.” Some of the anger had left his voice, but I knew he was more dangerous now than before. “You do have my personal property, after all.”

Dad’s handheld suddenly sounded. “Excuse me,” he said, getting up. “It’ll only be a moment.” He left the room, shutting the door behind him.

He couldn’t stop taking business calls during the most important meeting of my life. I wished I hadn’t bothered telling him about this.

The female suit leaned forward. “Is this your fiancé? Are both of you planning to raise the child?”

“Absolutely.” George rested his hand over mine.

The two suits from World Music placed their handhelds next to each other and typed for several minutes. Everyone else in the room, including me, watched them. Finally, the woman looked up. “Well, we think the child should be raised in a nuclear family. If he has a stable, happy childhood, he’ll be more likely to write upbeat songs, the kind that get good play on HitNet.”

I wondered where they got that idea from, bu
t if it meant I’d get to keep Paul, I wasn’t going to argue.

Uncle Jackass shook his head. “If we take the child immediately after he’s born, he’ll never know the difference. With all my resources, I can give little Sean much more than you ever will, Jo. D
on’t you think that’s best? And if you’re going to practice science, a child would just be a distraction.”

I resisted the temptation to tell him my son’s real name. “I’m his mother; I’ll do whatever’s necessary to raise him.” I glanced back at
the door; it was still shut. Damn it, why did Dad have to get that call? Wasn’t he here to support me?

Uncle Jackass looked smug. “I’m the head of the family; I have the controlling interest and the final say. I vote we continue with the original plans and
let me raise Sean’s clone.”

Well, voting was better than threats, but it was one vote for me, one against. And my former boss got to cast the deciding vote. George tightened his grip on my hand.

Guzman cleared his throat. “As the representative of Golden Helix—”

I heard the door open. “Who represents Golden Helix?” my dad asked.

Annoyance crossed Guzman’s face. “As the president of Golden Helix, I do, Mr. Lyon.”

“But aren’t you required to do what your stockholders tell you to do?”

“We normally don’t seek input from the stockholders for day-to-day advice on how to run our projects; they don’t need their Net connections slowed by such details. There aren’t any stockholders or proxies present, anyway.”

“Really?” Dad raised his eyebrows. “That’s funny; I’m a s
tockholder. As a matter of fact, as of two minutes ago, I own nearly thirty-five percent of GH.”

Uncle Jackass’s face turned first red, then pale. He worked his jaw for several seconds before he managed to get out, “So that’s why you’re here, Ian. You’re a
filthy bastard, you know that?”

“You’re not exactly a clean old man yourself, Jack. But frankly, this isn’t my type of investment. I think it’s more appropriate for someone with a science background…like, say, my daughter here.” Dad removed a stylus from
his handheld and scrawled a large signature across the screen. He tapped a few buttons. “There you go, Joanna. Congratulations twice over, for your wedding, and the baby, and a belated happy birthday, and…and happy everything.”

My handheld chimed. I turned
it towards George so we could look at it together. There it was, an account with nearly 40,000 shares of GH, all in my name. I checked the current stock market price and did a doubletake. I’d be able to buy a hell of a lot of diapers with those credits.

“
Thirty-five percent isn’t a controlling interest,” Guzman said. He sounded like he was being strangled. Too bad he was right; strangling him sounded very tempting.

“I know that,” Dad said. “That’s why I had my firm send statements to the stockholders I cou
ldn’t persuade to sell. We were able to get some of them to send me proxies specifically for this issue. Altogether, Joanna and I have voting rights for fifty-five percent of GH stock.” He winked at me. “So, Joanna, how are we voting?”

I took a deep breath
and looked straight at Uncle Jackass. “I’m keeping Paul, of course.”

“Paul? You’re naming him Paul? Sean wouldn’t approve!”

“How would you know? You never met him!”

We locked stares again. The only sound in the room was the faint hum from the air conditio
ner. I tried to outlast Uncle Jackass, but I couldn’t. For a few milliseconds, there was something not right in those familiar eyes, a menace more frightening for coming from him. It came and went so quickly that I doubt anyone else caught it. But I did, and it made me squeeze George’s hand. “It’s all right,” he whispered, a puzzled expression on his face. “You won.”