No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery) (26 page)

Elvis looked at me in surprise. “Why’d you do that?”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone just yet,” I said. Mostly because if it was Finn, I needed more time to assimilate the information I’d just learned about him. If it was Slash, I needed to decide whether he was trying to help or hurt Basia and Judyta.

“Hey, guys, I’ve got something,” Xavier suddenly exclaimed, his voice excited. “We’re in.”

I momentarily forgot my mortification about Finn and leapt to Xavier’s side, peering eagerly at the monitor. “In Acheron?”

“The one and only,” Xavier said gleefully.

Elvis’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Oh yeah, come to Daddy,” he breathed as data suddenly scrolled across the screen.

“Are you downloading it?” I asked in a hushed voice.

“We’ll have the whole thing in about three minutes,” Elvis answered.

For the next three minutes the room was completely silent except for the whir and hum of the computers and the air conditioner. Then Elvis typed something and stood up.

“Another one bites the dust,” he said and then stretched. “I think I’ll have a beer.”

Neither of the twins looked worried in the least, while I was on the verge of a heart attack. To the twins it was just another hack. To me, it was life or death.

Xavier sat in Elvis’s vacated chair and perused the file. After a moment he whistled. “Not good,” he said, his voice serious. “There is some pretty bad shit in here.”

“Define shit.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Not really, but I don’t see how I have much of a choice.”

“Okay, then here goes. Bright Horizons isn’t just doing in vitro fertilization procedures to help couples conceive.”

“Like,
duh.
They’re doing some kind of weird surrogate pregnancy deal, right?”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

“I mean they’re creating life all right. But not by traditional means.”

“What other means are there?” A niggling finger of dread crept up my spine.

“We’re not talking in vitro fertilization, hormone therapy or surrogacy pregnancies, legal or otherwise,” he said. “We’re talking about something much more sinister here.”

My stomach clenched. “How sinister?”

Xavier looked at me, his expression grim. “Bright Horizons is cloning human beings.”

I felt as though he’d punched me in the gut. “Cloning?” I gasped. “As in reproductive human cloning? Impossible!”

Elvis walked into the room with three beers. He handed one to Xavier and me and then sat down beside his brother. “Backspace, dude. Did I just hear you say human cloning?” He looked as startled as Xavier, which was pretty amazing since I didn’t think much of anything shocked the twins.

Xavier nodded, taking a swig of his beer and scrolling rapidly through the file. “Yeah, and from what I can tell this Al-Asan dude paid big bucks to try and get himself one.”

“How big?”

Xavier’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Looks like about forty million dollars big. Probably just a drop in the bucket for a guy like him.”

“Forty million dollars?” I exclaimed. “So that’s how CGM was able to financially afford to turn things around. My brother Rock uncovered the same figure, except now we know it came from one source—Al-Asan. I wonder how many other potential clients CGM has got lined up.”

“Probably plenty,” Xavier said. “But presumably only if Project Acheron works out.”

“The name makes sense now,” Elvis murmured. “Project Acheron.”

I backed into a chair and sat down, my legs suddenly weak. “Odysseus poured sacrificial blood into the confluence of the rivers Acheron and Styx to summon the ghosts of the dead,” I muttered. “I get it, too.”

“Actually, it’s more like
resurrecting
the dead,” Elvis commented. “Creating an immortal life, in a way, if one keeps cloning oneself forever. Grotesque and yet, dissonantly poetic.”

“This is seriously messed up,” Xavier said, shaking his head. “How in the world did a girl like Basia get mixed up in a mess like this?”

My stomach roiled. “Her cousin Judyta is one of several surrogates hired to carry Al-Asan’s clone. The problem is, Judyta doesn’t know about the cloning part. Probably the other women didn’t either.”

I quickly gave them the complete rundown, including my recent conversation with Basia, all the information Slash had told me about Al-Asan’s bodyguards being murdered in Italy, and the young women presumably carrying Al-Asan’s clone showing up dead across Europe.

Xavier whistled under his breath when I finished. “Are you saying someone tracked down these women and killed them execution style?”

“According to Slash, yes. All except Judyta. But Basia told me she thinks their lives are in danger. Judyta has already managed to escape one accident.”

“Nasty stuff, if it’s really playing out this way,” Elvis commented.

“What do you mean,
if
it’s really playing out this way?” I asked.

“Well, cloning is a complicated procedure,” he explained, shrugging. “Cloning humans is likely to be even more difficult than theorized. Scientists aren’t able to properly study or determine its safety without conducting a large-scale study. In laymen’s terms, that means clinical trials on a mass scale. I just don’t see that happening in the near future, at least not out in the open. And once you take the research and trials underground, the science itself becomes suspect.”

“Jeez,” I said, trying not to be disgusted. “Do you really think CGM has a good chance of getting a clone of Al-Asan out of this?”

Elvis shrugged. “It depends on the ability and the genius of the people involved, as well as the procedures they used. And I wouldn’t discount a healthy dose of luck. But as far as I know, primates are especially difficult to clone for a wide variety of reasons, not the least of which is proper brain development. But if I were to make guess based on sheer mathematical supposition, the odds would be extremely low that CGM could get a healthy clone from this. Let me take a look at the file for a moment.”

He moved over to another terminal and started scrolling through the Acheron file. A few minutes later, Elvis twirled around in his chair. “Well, from what I can see, it looks like CGM gave it their best shot. Their scientists, geneticists and doctors all appear to have solid credentials. They had the money, the equipment and the resources. Implementation took place last December in Genoa, Italy, using freshly harvested skin cells from Al-Asan who was also in Italy for the procedure. It looks like seven women were implanted at this time, all of varied nationalities. From what I can tell, this appears to be a deliberate action. The scientists wanted to see if any one nationality might have a stronger physical constitution over another that might help stabilize the fetus.”

I swallowed hard. “First of all,
eeew.
Second of all, is Judyta definitely one of the seven?”

“Her name is listed in the file.”

I inhaled a deep breath. “Okay. So, the odds are low, but there is still a chance CGM could get a clone out of this, right?”

Elvis shrugged. “Of course there is always that chance. The mere fact that Judyta hasn’t yet miscarried is a very good sign for CGM. Nonetheless that doesn’t mean there won’t be problems down the road for both her and the child even if it survives the birthing process. But just the birth alone could be a huge watershed for science.”

I stood and started to pace. I needed to clear my mind, to look at this as coolly and objectively as possible. This was science and I had to remove my emotions and look at it in terms of the hard, cold facts. If I were to fully understand what I was up against, I needed to know exactly how the procedure worked.

“All right, so give it to me as simply as possible,” I said. “How does one create a clone? I mean, you said they probably used skin cells from Al-Asan.”

Xavier leaned forward in his chair. “Theoretically, it’s a fairly straightforward procedure. A healthy, unfertilized egg is harvested from a female and the nucleus removed. Cells are then taken from the person who wants to be cloned. Typically those are skin cells, and at least one of the cells must contain all forty-six chromosomes.”

“Then what?”

“Then the new cell with its nucleus is inserted into the egg,” Xavier explained. “Chemical or electrical stimulation is used to divide the egg, just as if it had been fertilized naturally. Once the embryo is stable, it can be implanted into a uterus where it grows and develops.”

“It sounds easy,” I said. “What about that Scottish sheep, Dolly, who was cloned back in 1996? Didn’t she turn out okay?”

“Not exactly,” Elvis answered. “At first she looked all right, but scientists later found arthritis in her leg, which is a rare condition in sheep before ten years of age. She also showed signs of premature aging and lived shorter than the average life span of a sheep.”

I rubbed my temples to try and stave off the headache that was starting there. “So Al-Asan paid forty million dollars to get himself a clone. How did CGM keep the money all hush-hush?”

Elvis shrugged. “Someone doctored the financial records. It seems to be the corporate rage these days.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Does this mean it was a straight profit for CGM?”

“Not exactly,” Xavier answered. “More like a long-term investment. Think of the potential income that could be generated for the company in the future.”

I grimaced. “Break down the financial costs for me.”

Elvis steepled his fingers together. “First CGM would have to find a half-dozen young, healthy women to donate eggs. Not all eggs are viable. Only about one-third of them would turn out to be usable embryos. To find just the right ones could get expensive.”

“But it wouldn’t matter what nationality, eye color or IQ of the woman donating the egg because all of her genetic material is removed during cloning,” I said.

“Right. Then they’d have to find excellent candidates in superb physical shape to carry the babies to term since it would be a high-risk pregnancy.”

“Just to see if there were a difference, they chose seven women of differing ages and nationalities. Except the women didn’t even know just how dangerous the risks were going to be,” I said.

“Exactly. Once the eggs were fertilized with Al-Asan’s genetic material, they’d be implanted into the women’s uteruses,” Elvis continued. “The mothers would be monitored very closely because of the extremely high risk for miscarriage, abnormally large fetuses, severe birth deformities or any number of other problems we can’t even begin to imagine.”

I tried unsuccessfully to ignore the constant churning in my stomach. “Okay, so that’s why the women had to sign the contracts promising to see specific doctors in certain locations. And that’s probably why CGM spread the women out across the different continents so that there would be less of a chance they’d attract attention if things started to go wrong. And naturally CGM never told the women they were part of a reproductive cloning experiment.”

Xavier nodded. “Additionally, I’d guess that CGM would keep a large reserve of cash to protect the doctors and scientists who worked on Project Acheron. They’d want to be compensated if it ever became known they were involved in cloning human beings. They would certainly risk losing their licenses, not to mention their reputations.”

We fell silent for a moment, thinking over the magnitude of what we’d uncovered.

Then Xavier spoke up. “You said Basia called you on your new cell phone. How did she get your number?”

“Lars Anderson,” I replied. “Her new Swedish karate instructor. He’s helping her for some reason. I know he is in this up to his neck, so I marched over to his studio this afternoon and told him I needed to reach Basia and left my new cell number. He played dumb, but lo and behold, a couple hours later she called me. I guess it worked.”

“Backspace a nanobyte. Did you say karate instructor?” Xavier looked flabbergasted. He seemed more shocked by the idea that Basia would take karate than the fact that CGM was cloning human beings. Actually, if I really thought about it, it
was
a close call in terms of shock factor.

“I know it sounds crazy,” I said. “But for some reason Basia signed up for karate lessons shortly before she disappeared. Lars has a karate studio over in Laurel and clearly knows more about her whereabouts than he is letting on.”

“He’s Swedish?” Elvis murmured. “And Basia and Judyta just happen to be in Sweden. Well, at least we have a connection.”

“Yeah, but what? I had my brother Beau check him out in the police files and he’s clean. He became a naturalized American citizen last year and has run the karate studio for three. No tickets, no warrants, no obvious skeletons in the closet.”

“Everyone has something to hide,” Elvis said firmly.

“Maybe Basia and Judyta are staying with his family somewhere in Sweden,” Xavier offered.

“Too easy,” I said. “Slash is on to Lars and you can bet he’s already used all his resources to check out that possibility.”

“That means we still don’t know their connection,” Elvis said. “You say Basia never mentioned Lars before, and we all agree that the mere thought of Basia doing karate is astonishingly absurd.”

“I might point out that she didn’t mention Finn Shaughnessy either,” Xavier said.

“Well, not before she disappeared,” I replied. “But afterwards she warned me not to trust him. In Finn’s defense, though, I think it’s just because he’s connected to CGM. She didn’t know his particulars. Personally, I think he’s as much a victim in all of this as we are.”

Neither Elvis nor Xavier looked particularly convinced, but I pressed on. “Okay, let’s forget about Finn and karate lessons for now and focus on the big picture.”

“Good idea,” Elvis agreed. “Shall I give it a shot?”

“Please.”

“Okay, so here’s what we know. Mashir Al-Asan, a Saudi prince, underwent a cloning procedure via CGM’s clinic in Genoa, Italy, last December. Cloned fetuses were implanted in seven women of varied nationalities. As far as we know, six of the seven have turned up dead and executed, none having successfully given birth. One of the women, Judyta Taszynski, is still alive and, as far as we know, healthy and pregnant. Presumably she is hiding somewhere in Sweden, being protected by her cousin Basia, and a naturalized Swedish-American karate instructor. Why and from whom they are protecting her is a mystery. Now the NSA, FBI and possibly the CIA and Vatican intelligence are all vested in finding Judyta Taszynski for reasons we can only speculate upon.”

I nodded. “Okay, that sums it up fairly well, except don’t forget to mention that two of Al-Asan’s bodyguards were murdered in Genoa at the same time the implantation took place. The hit was possibly a robbery gone bad, or if the CIA is to be trusted, possibly conducted by followers of
überterrorist,
Samir Al-Naddi. A high-ranking Yemeni intelligence officer has also taken an intense interest in the whereabouts of Judyta.”

“I’m with you guys so far,” Xavier said. “It also seems clear the NSA has sanctioned your participation in this, but for some reason you’re being played blind.”

“Except for the guiding hand of Slash,” I said. “You know, this really bites. I mean, how do we even know for sure that Slash is working for the NSA? What if he is really still with Vatican intelligence and just cooperating with the NSA?”

Elvis shook his head. “Despite his connection to the Vatican, which I’d venture to say is a lifetime commitment, he’s definitely working for the NSA.”

Xavier nodded vigorously. “Yeah, Lexi, he’s in. While we were working on the program to hack into CGM, he was in and out of places that one only goes if they are part of the NSA. Besides, if he weren’t NSA, he’d never have got our message in the first place. He’s the real deal, Lexi. You can take it to the bank.”

I had high regard for the twins’ opinions, not to mention their gut instinct. If they thought Slash was NSA, then that was good enough for me.

“Then how do we figure Slash into this?” I asked.

Elvis rubbed his chin. “My guess is that Slash and his team already knew or suspected CGM was cloning humans, but they needed a smoking gun.”

“They needed you,” I said, suddenly understanding. “Slash must have failed in his attempts to get in. Jeez, how could I be so stupid? They used me to get to you guys. For an expert hack.”

“Um, we went to him, Lexi,” Xavier pointed out.