Replica (38 page)

“Don’t hurt her!” Nate yelled, and there was a frantic edge in his voice. From the sound of it, he was struggling again.

A high-pitched whining sound started up, and Nadia fought past her terror, fought to think coherently instead of letting herself visualize one of those drills or saws descending to cut into her head.

“It won’t work,” she said in something between a whimper and a scream. No matter how pointless it was, she struggled against the bonds that held her to the table, not caring that they dug painfully into the flesh of her wrists and ankles. “I don’t know where the data is stored.”

Dirk Mosely gave a bark of laughter. “Of course, you would never say such a thing if it weren’t true.”

The high-pitched whine was coming steadily closer.

“I’m not stupid,” she countered. “You made it clear from the beginning you were willing to torture me. Making the recordings would do me no good if you could torture the location out of me.” She couldn’t suppress a little whimper of fear, which didn’t do much to enhance the illusion that she was bargaining from a position of strength. “If you let your pet monster do this, and she finds I’m telling the truth, you’re completely screwed. This is your last chance.”

A bubble of hysterical laughter swelled in her chest. She was lying here tied to a table, about to be vivisected by a sentient machine, and she was telling the Chairman that it was
his
last chance. This all had to be some crazy dream, right? An epic nightmare created by her subconscious to terrify her in her sleep. It couldn’t possibly be happening in real life.

“Wait,” the Chairman said.

The whining sound continued to come closer.

“Thea, stop,” the Chairman said, more firmly.

“I can find the recordings, Mr. Chairman,” Thea protested. “Even if this subject does not know their actual location, I will discern who
does
know, and we can proceed from there.”

“And by the time you do, the recordings will be all over the net,” Nadia said. “What do you think would happen if everyone in Paxco, hell, everyone in the
world
knew what you were doing down here?”

Just saying the words made Nadia think about it herself, and she didn’t much like what came to her mind. There was already a resistance movement forming within Paxco, infiltrating the upper echelons of the state. Right now, they were biding their time, working their way more deeply into the infrastructure. She didn’t know for sure what their eventual goal was, but she’d gotten the impression they were working toward a political coup, not a violent one. But if word of what the Chairman had been doing and condoning came out, violence seemed inevitable.

“You’d risk civil war at the very least,” she said, thinking about all the states and nations that already found the ethics of the Replica technology questionable. It was outlawed entirely in many parts of the world, Replicas not even being recognized as human beings. And it was against international law to create a Replica of a living person or of a person who had died of natural causes—specifically to prevent scenarios like the one the Chairman envisioned of his eternal reign. Paxco could very well find itself under attack at the same time that its citizens were rising up against it. When Nadia had first started down this road, she had never considered that her attempts to protect herself might lead to the very brink of war.

“Thea, I’m giving you a direct order,” the Chairman said. “Do not proceed.”

The whining sound stopped, and the spotlights dimmed to a bearable level. Nadia opened her eyes, then wished she hadn’t. A circular saw, its blade still turning from leftover momentum, was bare millimeters from her forehead.

“Don’t be childish, Thea,” the Chairman said. “Move the blade. And Mr. Mosely, please release Nadia from her restraints.”

“Are you sure about this?” Mosely asked.

“Yes,” the Chairman snapped, apparently not appreciating having his order questioned.

The saw blade above Nadia’s head whirred to life briefly, nearly giving her a heart attack, but Thea withdrew the arm. Nadia swallowed hard. Thea might be a machine, but she was an AI, and had something resembling free will. Just because Chairman Hayes ordered her not to cut Nadia open didn’t mean she wouldn’t. And Nadia couldn’t help seeing that brief reactivation of the saw as a threat, and a sullen one at that. She couldn’t get off this table soon enough.

Mosely went out of his way to be rough with her as he removed the restraints, tugging on them so they dug into her already-abused flesh. But she didn’t complain, gritting her teeth against the pain. Across the room, she could see that Nate’s hands were free. One of the security officers was gone. The second stood blocking the doorway, his hand on the butt of his gun, though he kept it holstered. Nate and Nadia might be out of their restraints, but that didn’t mean they were free, and that didn’t mean this was over.

Mosely finally tugged loose the last restraint, and Nadia leapt off the table.

Or tried to. Between the fear and her recent impersonation of a lightning rod, her knees turned to jelly the moment her feet hit the floor, and she crumpled.

Mosely reached toward her, no doubt to drag her to her feet, but Nate crossed the distance between them in a few hurried strides and shouldered Mosely out of the way.

“Don’t even think about touching her again,” he spat, kneeling on the floor beside her and gathering her into his arms.

Never in her entire life had a hug felt so good, and Nadia pressed herself against him, holding on as if her life depended on it.

The second officer returned to the room, carrying another plastic chair. He set that chair down on the prisoners’ side of the interrogation table, then stepped aside so that he and his buddy could flank the door. Chairman Hayes walked over to the single chair on the other side of the table, pulling it back and sitting down.

“I’m ready to discuss terms when you are,” he said, folding his hands on the table.

“Can you walk?” Nate asked, still holding her against him.

Nadia wanted to stay in Nate’s arms for the foreseeable future. The scent of his skin soothed her, and she was so tired of being scared. But the sooner they got started, the sooner she’d get out of here, and she wanted that more than anything in the world.

“I can walk,” she said, reluctantly sitting up straight. “If you’ll give me a hand up.”

She met Nate’s intense blue eyes. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so many things she needed to apologize for—it was amazing how a near-death experience could change a girl’s perspective. She promised herself she would say everything that needed saying, just as soon as they had secured their freedom.

Nadia allowed him to help her up. This time, her knees held.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“That
recording must never become public,” the Chairman said, starting the negotiations. “You might be tempted to release it to punish me for the wrongs you think I’ve done you, but the damage that information would do is … incalculable.”

Nate clenched his fists under the table, where the Chairman couldn’t see them. He’d been able to keep his emotions relatively under control in the midst of the crisis, but now that the immediate threat was removed, they threatened to swamp him. He wanted to leap across the table and grab his father around the throat. And the image of grabbing one of the officers’ guns and shooting Dirk Mosely dead held a frightening appeal. It was probably a good thing for everyone involved that Nate didn’t have to handle the negotiations himself, that he had someone calmer and more even-tempered sitting beside him. Instead of responding, Nate said, “Don’t look at me. Nadia’s the one who has the recordings. She’s the one you have to convince.”

He took a perverse pleasure from his father’s obvious chagrin at being forced to negotiate with a sixteen-year-old girl. Nadia was still pale from her ordeal, the dark circles under her eyes still prominent, but her gaze was steady, and Nate knew she was far from broken, despite the spots of blood that dotted her shoulder from her shredded ear. He’d once thought of her as a fragile little thing, always so worried about every little faux pas, but he knew better now.

“Very well,” the Chairman said, turning his attention to Nadia with reluctance. “I am prepared to offer you complete amnesty in return for those recordings.”

Nadia’s lips lifted in a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

“I assure you, this is no laughing matter.”

Nadia contained her laughter, but mirth still sparkled in her eyes. “Then don’t treat me like a child. Amnesty for me, my entire family, and Nate are all givens and don’t even warrant a mention.”

The Chairman did not appreciate being laughed at. Nor did he appear to appreciate Nadia’s tone. Nate had been on the receiving end of that cold glare more times than he could count, and he had to admit that he was occasionally cowed by it. But if Nadia was cowed, she didn’t show it.

“What else do you want?” the Chairman asked.

“Amnesty for Kurt Bishop, to start.”

Warmth swelled in Nate’s chest. He wanted to hug her again. Any other girl in her position might have been glad for the chance to get Kurt out of the way. She didn’t even like Kurt, and yet her very first concern was to demand amnesty for him.

“That can be arranged,” the Chairman said, with a scowl that made it plain what he thought of the arrangement.

“And let’s get something else clear right off the bat. I am
not
giving you the recordings. Not ever. No matter what you offer.”

The Chairman’s eyes sharpened and he leaned forward on his elbows, gaze boring into Nadia with such malice that Nate couldn’t help putting a protective arm around her shoulders. Both the Chairman and Nadia ignored him.

“If you don’t intend to give me the recordings, then we have nothing to talk about,” the Chairman said. “I will feed you to Thea, shoot this Replica”—he waved a hand at Nate without tearing his eyes from Nadia—“and weather the storm of public disapproval to the best of my abilities.”

Nadia shook her head. “The one and only thing I’m willing to give you is a promise that the recordings will not be released to the public—and that only if the price is right. I’m not stupid enough to hand over the one thing that will keep you from killing me.”

Nate could see by the play of muscles in the Chairman’s face that he was grinding his teeth. His father was a master negotiator—Nate had seen him at work before—but he was used to negotiating from a position of power. He was
not
used to negotiating with someone who had him by the balls.

“Face it,
Dad,
” Nate said, unable to resist rubbing it in just a bit. “You don’t have any choice.”

A flush of red fury crept up the Chairman’s neck, and Nate wondered if he was about to have a stroke on the spot. Nate also wondered if he still had the gun he’d been holding earlier—Nate hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t know whether he’d given it back to the security officer or stuck it in his own coat pocket. Maybe he’d better keep his mouth shut. If he pushed his luck too far, his father might lose his temper and shoot him before he remembered why that was a bad idea.

“On top of amnesty for Kurt,” Nadia continued calmly, “I want Dirk Mosely arrested and put away for life.”

Behind the Chairman, Mosely stiffened, as if he had never considered the possibility that Nadia might want his head after what he’d done. But then, Mosely had been underestimating her from the start.

“And lastly, there will be no more human experimentation. I don’t care if Thea refuses to make Replicas or do backup scans. For you to allow our whole state to be held hostage by this damn machine is deplorable.”

“Oh, yes,” the Chairman said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m going to bankrupt my state, starve my people, deprive them of jobs and homes and basic human necessities, all because making good use of the dregs of society offends you.”

Nate noticed he hadn’t voiced any objection to Nadia’s demand to arrest Mosely. The sharply calculating look in Mosely’s eyes said he’d noticed it, too, and Nate kept a careful eye on him. He didn’t appear to be armed—perhaps he didn’t feel the need to carry a weapon deep in the safety of the Fortress—but Nate wasn’t sure.

“If you’re going to arrest Mosely,” Nate needled his father, “you might want to get on with it, and I definitely don’t recommend sitting there with your back to him.”

The Chairman barely spared Mosely a glance. “He is a true patriot. He will do whatever is necessary for the good of our state, even if it turns out to be at great personal cost. But I haven’t agreed to your terms, so he needn’t worry.”

There was an obvious unspoken “yet” at the end of that sentence, and Nate kept his eyes on Mosely. He might be a “true patriot” when it came to sacrificing other peoples’ lives and liberties, but Nate wasn’t at all convinced he would sacrifice his own. Maybe if his father could see how his hatchet man was staring daggers at him behind his back, he’d realize his mistake.

“I have a counteroffer,” the Chairman said. “I will never in a million years find a better, more able security chief than Mr. Mosely, and the livelihood of our nation depends upon the storage of backups and the ability to create Replicas. I’m afraid I can’t give up either one without seriously compromising the welfare of our state, and that I’m not willing to do.” He held up a hand for silence when Nadia opened her mouth to protest. “In return for your silence, I will elevate your father to the Paxco board of directors, effective immediately. You and all of your family—including your little niece and nephew of whom I’ve heard you’re so fond—can have monthly backups for the rest of your lives. You need never fear losing any of the people you love to preventable causes.” His cold, hard gaze shifted to Nate. “I’ll even throw in a backup for your lover.”

Nate froze. He wanted to maintain a poker face, but hiding his emotions had never been one of his best skills, and he could feel the blood draining from his face, giving him away.

The Chairman smiled, and if Nate hadn’t known better, he might even have thought there was a hint of fatherly affection in that smile.