Sims (37 page)

“You, you lousy monkey bastard! You made me look like a jerk!”

Meerm hear Beece say, “Please, sir, Beece not understand.”

Meerm peek through crack. See big red-hair man stand over Beece.

“Don't give me that shit! You lied to me!”

“Beece tell truth!”

“You said there was a sick female sim here! Do you see her? Where is she? Show her to me, you lying monkey bastard! Show me!”

Meerm see red-hair man raise fist. Meerm close eye, turn away. Hear hit sounds, hear Beece make hurt sounds.

“Hey-hey-hey!” Benny say. “You kill him, you replace him!”

Meerm hear other hit sound, hear more hurt sound.

“I oughta drop-kick your sim ass right out the window! All right, I'm outta here. If I have to look at another monkey I'm gonna puke!”

Man and Benny leave. Meerm want hide more but must see Beece. Beece friend, Beece hurt. Meerm leave closet. Find all sim in circle round Beece bunk. Beece eye swoll, nose bleed. Hold side. Poor Beece. Hurt-hurt-hurt.

“Beece! Meerm sorry! Ver sorry.”

Beece say, “Not Meerm fault. Beece fault. Beece want help Meerm but Meerm right. Bad mans. Ver bad.”

“Poor Beece!”

“Beece not tell ever again.” Beece look at other sim. “No sim tell mans bout Meerm. If tell mans come hurt Meerm like hurt Beece.” Beece close good eye now. “Beece tired. Sleep now.”

Meerm stay by Beece. Stroke arm. Poor hurt Beece. Meerm so sad. Keep hand on Beece arm. Stay by Beece all night.

 

 

 

MANHATTAN
DECEMBER 15

“This is fabulous!” Patrick shouted, venting his glee. “Ab-so-lute-ly faaaaabulous!”

He shuffled in a circle around the cracked concrete floor, punching the air, wanting to laugh aloud but fearing if he ever let himself get started he might not be able to stop.

Zero had called Romy and him to a meeting here in the garage without hinting at what it might be about. Patrick wished he could have watched Zero's face, especially his eyes, as he'd laid the news on them about a sim made pregnant by a human. He hadn't been able to fathom the mystery man's feelings through the ski mask and shades, but Patrick knew exactly how
he
felt. Suddenly his whole world had burst wide open in a blinding blaze of glory. Lawyers dream about an opportunity like this. Dream, hell, most of them didn't even have the capacity to imagine something like this.

It was a home run.

In the bottom of the ninth.

With the bases loaded.

On Christmas Day.

With a winning lotto ticket waiting in the dugout.

Life was good, life was sooooo good!

Finally he turned back to Romy and Zero. As usual, Zero hung back in the shadows; Romy stood by the panel truck; both were watching him as if he were mad. He glanced up at the square of darkness in the ceiling above the ladder fastened to the rear wall. No eyes peering at him this time. But even if there were, it wouldn't have fazed him. Not today.

“I get a feeling I've made Mr. Sullivan's day,” Zero said, ostensibly to Romy.

“I think you made his year,” she said, her expression troubled.

Patrick couldn't figure that. She should be beaming.

“Year?”
he cried. “This makes my
life!
A baby with a sim mother and a human father! Don't you see what this means?”

“Of course,” Zero said. “Undeniable proof that humans and sims can cross-fertilize.”

“Right! And that means they have to be upgraded into the same category as humans.”

“It's called ‘genus,' ” Zero said, “not category.”

“Oh, right.” He'd never found science very interesting. No juice. “Genus and species. We're
Homo sapiens
, right? So what genus are sims?”

“Start with the root: the animal kingdom; from there you move to the Chordata phylum, then to the Mammalia class. The next divisions are known as ‘orders.' Humans, apes, monkeys, even tree shrews are all members of the Primate order. But after that we branch into different families. Chimps, gorillas, and orangutans are classified as members of the Pongidae family, while humans are the only existing members of the Hominidae family.”

“Pongidae . . . Hominidae,” Patrick said, rolling the unfamiliar words over his tongue. He guessed scientists were like lawyers, using dead languages to confuse and confute.

“Even before sims were created,” Zero was saying, “there were movements in the scientific community to shift chimps to the Hominidae family, and they might have succeeded if not for SimGen. Once SimGen got into the act, the movement ran out of gas.”

Romy said, “I've never understood how one corporation could wield so much influence.”

“Money,” Zero said.

Her brow furrowed. “I can see that working where legislation is involved, but how can you buy a scientific classification?”

“With grants. The right amount of money to the right universities to see
the right man as head of the right department, and suddenly there are more important concerns than to which family
Pan troglodytes
belong. And so chimps stayed Pongidae.”

“
Pan troglodytes
,” Patrick said. “That's the chimp genus and species, right?”

Zero nodded. “And sims are known as
Pan sinclairis
of the family Pongidae.”

“
Pan sinclairis
,” Patrick said, shaking his head. “Talk about ego.” Then he grinned. “But no amount of grants is going to keep them out of Hominidae once word gets out about this baby. We'll move them up to the
Homo
genus and get them a brand new name:
Homo simiens
. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like the end of SimGen,” Zero said.

“Damn right. Move sims to genus Homo, they become humans. And since owning a human hasn't been legal since the Emancipation Proclamation, SimGen loses everything. Tome and I are going to lead the biggest class action lawsuit this world has ever seen. The tobacco settlements will look like chump change. Every sim will have a Caddy and a condo, and the Sinclair brothers, when I'm through with them, will be living on the street.”

Patrick waited for a reaction—a laugh, a cheer, encouragement, anything—but Zero remained silent behind his shields, while Romy frowned and seemed to be miles away.

“I won't even take the customary thirty or forty percent,” he added. “I'll settle for one point.” Plus expenses, of course. He could handle one percent of a zillion—last him the rest of his life and then some.

Still no reaction from either of them. He felt like a singer with a dead mike.

Finally Zero stirred, lacing his gloved fingers and popping the knuckles. “All fine and good, Patrick, but your scenario is missing one crucial element: You need proof.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.”

No arguing with that: no pregnant sim, no case.

“And we can't offer five million for a tip.”

“No,” Patrick said, “but maybe you can intercept that tip.”

“How do you propose I do that?”

“Obviously you've got a line into the heart of SimGen.”

He noticed Zero stiffen into a wary pose. “Obviously?”

“Sure. How else could you come by all this inside information. I don't know if it's a person or a bug, and I don't want to know. What I'm saying is, if we can intercept the crucial tip, or even get it at the same time SimGen does, maybe we can reach this sim—”

“She's got a name: Meerm.”

“See? You even know her name. So if we can use the tip to reach her before SimGen does, we're golden.”

Zero shook his head. “I doubt that's possible. All tips will be directed to Luca Portero, and he's not the type to share information, even with the Sinclairs.”

“Well . . . ,” Patrick said slowly, discarding a new idea immediately, but voicing it just to get a rise out of Romy. “He does have the hots for Romy . . .”

“Don't even think about it,” she snapped.

“Joke, Romy.” At least she'd been listening. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Something about this bothers me. How can a sim and a human cross-fertilize? Sims have twenty-two chromosome pairs and humans have twenty-three. Somewhere along the line they're not going to match up, and a pair of chromosomes is going to be left hanging.”

“Not necessarily,” Zero said. “Look at the mule. Its father is a donkey, which has thirty-one pairs and its mother is a horse, which has thirty-two, though both are members of the genus
Equus
. Mules have been around for ages with no problems from the dangling chromosomes, other than the fact that they're usually sterile.”

Romy's frown deepened. “Then this baby, if it's ever born, will probably be sterile too.”

“We'll have to see. We're in uncharted territory here.”

“So a mule,” Patrick said, “is the offspring of a male donkey and a female horse. What if it's the other way around?”

“That's a less common combination, but then you get something called a hinny. They look like mules but tend to be smaller because most donkeys are smaller than horses.”

“Where do all these fascinating tidbits of animal husbandry leave us?” Patrick said.

“With the realization that, given a fertile sim, a human-sim hybrid is a very real possibility.”

“I keep thinking about that baby,” Romy said. “What's going to happen to it? Who'll take care of it? And being neither sim nor human, what place will it have in the world?”

Zero's tone softened. “Until we find Meerm I suggest you put off worrying about the baby. Given your nature, I know that won't be easy, but your own safety should be at the top of your list right now. You won't be able to help that baby if anything happens to you.”

Patrick felt the muscles between his shoulder blades tighten. “What do you mean, ‘happens'?”

He sighed. “You haven't heard the whole story yet.”

“What are you holding back?”

“Nothing. I never had a chance to finish. Your war dance got us off track.”

Romy eyed Zero. “There's a poor, frightened sim whore out there pregnant by a human degenerate. Isn't that enough?”

“I never mentioned a whore, sim or otherwise.”

“I just assumed . . .”

Zero looked at Romy. “You might want to sit down.”

“Oh, no.” She stood blinking for a few heartbeats, then retreated two steps and dropped into the chair by the wall. “Do I want to hear this?”

“Probably not, but you need to.”

Zero then went on to explain who was behind the SLA and the reasons for its atrocities. Patrick listened, but all the while his eyes were fixed on Romy. He watched her initial disbelief give way to unwilling acceptance of a horrifying truth. Her expression was slack by the time Zero finished. He wanted to step to her side and slip his arms around her, but thought better of it. Jostle her now and she might explode.

Patrick too was shocked. To think that just two weeks ago in front of the burned-out ruins of the Bronx globulin farm, Romy had introduced him to the engineer of all this death and destruction.

“There's got to be some way we can nail Portero for this,” Patrick said.

“Don't count on it. He's a pro, a very careful one.”

“That doesn't mean we can't manufacture some evidence.”

“No,” Zero said, shaking his head. “Too dangerous.”

Romy finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I . . . I'd always figured Portero for a snake. But . . . I never dreamed . . . I mean, executing three humans and twelve sims . . . just to cover his tracks.”

“And those are just the ones we know about. You two might have been added to list if we hadn't intervened when Patrick's car was knocked off the road.”

“That was him?” Patrick said, turning toward Romy. “You mean I was standing two feet away from the guy who tried to kill me and I didn't know it?”

“Not him directly,” Zero said. “But he planned it.”

“Why didn't anyone tell me?”

He shrugged. “No one said, ‘Let's not tell Patrick.' When it happened,
we still weren't sure of you. And after you came on board, it simply never came up.”

“Just as well, I guess,” he said. “If I'd known I might have opened my big yap and given something away.”

“Which brings me back to what I was saying before,” Zero said. “Watch your backs. You and Romy have put yourselves on the wrong side of Manassas Ventures. Manassas is connected to SimGen and therefore, by extension, to Luca Portero. We've known he was ruthless, we just didn't know until now
how
ruthless. There's nothing this man won't do, so please be careful. I'll do whatever I can to back you up, but the organization can do only so much.”

Patrick turned to Romy. “Maybe we should move in together.”