The Immortality Virus (30 page)

“It’s useful, yes.” This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“I’m surprised you didn’t come to me straight away with an injury like that,” Matt said.

“Well, first I was busy escaping from a windowless cell, then I was too busy hiding from pursuers, then I was too busy escaping from a plantation... After that, it kind of got fuzzy. I hadn’t slept in three days, you see.”

“Ah, well,” Matt said dismissively, “we can deal with all of that later. I see you’ve had some basic treatment for your wound, but the sooner my doctors take a look at it, the better. Sam will show you downstairs.”

He turned back to the window–a clear dismissal. She stared at his back for a few seconds before turning to go.

It occurred to her as she left that he might have been blowing her off by trying to appease her. Well, the tactic wouldn’t work. She’d get her answers from him, but first she’d take advantage of the best medical care in the Midwest.

* * *

As it turned out, the wound was infected and she needed more blood and fluid before they could operate. IVs pumped essential fluids into her veins for hours while Grace caught up on some sleep. Not the most restful sleep, with needles sticking her in the arms and medical staff constantly coming and going, but sleep.

In the end, Dr. Blake had to remove her entire arm below the elbow, but he assured her the new, state-of-the-art prosthetic would work as well as her hand had, once she got used to it.

He spent most of the afternoon fine tuning and customizing the prosthetic. Grace had to admit that by the time he pronounced them “finished,” her new prosthetic looked and felt almost exactly like a normal arm. She could feel sensations such as hot, cold, and pain. She could move it at will. The robotic fingers obeyed her thoughts.

Yet it still felt foreign. Perhaps that feeling would go away in time. At least she had a hand now.

“I’ll need to see Matt again,” Grace told Sam as Dr. Blake began reciting instructions to her for the fifth time...she may feel phantom pains for a few days...spend some time practicing with it every day until it felt as natural as using her real hand...call him immediately if she felt any dizziness, nausea, vomiting, or coughing up blood...rate of rejection was about five percent...

“Matt may have gone home for the evening,” Sam said. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you when you have some progress to report on the case.”

“How does he know I haven’t made progress now?”

“Have you?” Sam asked.

Grace almost said no but changed her mind. “Yes. I’ve discovered where I can get answers.”

“Matt’s told you everything he knows,” Sam said.

“Bull.” Grace stood up and followed Sam from the recovery room. “Also, I don’t believe he’s gone home yet. He’s not that kind of man. He’s here and I will get in to see him or there’s nothing more for me to investigate on this case.”

“You can’t mean that.” Sam studied her eyes. Grace didn’t turn away. “All right, I’ll go talk to him.

He left her in the twenty-first floor waiting room for almost fifteen minutes. When he returned, he had a scowl on his face. “Let’s go. He’ll see you, but he’s not happy.”

Fine. She didn’t need him happy. She needed him honest. And pissing him off might be the only way to do that.

She prepared herself to shoo Sam away, but he didn’t even try to go into Matt’s office with her. She didn’t need him there to encourage her, hold her hand, or tell her how wonderful Matt was. This was between Matt and herself, and that’s how they would deal.

“This is highly unusual,” Matt said without preamble as she walked through the door. “I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t expect you to stay long.”

“I don’t want to stay long,” Grace said.

“Have a seat,” Matt offered.

Grace shook her head. She would not be forced into a sitting position while he lorded over her. Not this time. “Do you know what I’ve been through for the past week?”

“Yes,” Matt said. “I’ve had agents and spies following you this entire time. I’ve made quite an investment in you and I wanted you to have backup.”

“Backup?” Grace asked. “Where was this backup while I was chained in a cell being tortured? Where were they when I lost my hand?”

“Getting caught in the middle of a war,” Matt said. “Or didn’t you notice? You haven’t been as discreet as I would have hoped. Edgers took a strangely powerful interest in that farm and now his troops are closing in around Kansas City. Now, why would Edgers be so interested in Kansas City? Every military strategist from here to California agrees it wasn’t his best move. The governor may be playing this down, but he’s worried and clueless. I have a clue–which makes me even more worried.”

“William Edgers had me in Iowa. He let me go.”

“A brilliant move,” Matt said. “I would have done the same. Ethan Lacklin could learn a few things from Edgers.”

As if to emphasize the point, the earth shook again. Grace saw the flash of the shield through Matt’s open window. “He can take the city, can’t he?”

“Given time and determination, both of which he has.”

Grace swallowed. “Then we have to find Jordan before he gets inside.”

“I imagine he’s already got agents tailing you within the city walls, so we have to do more than that. We’ve got to get Jordan somewhere Edgers can’t find him.”

“What do you think he wants with Jordan?” The real question, of course, was whether Mr. Edgers was natural life or not.

“I’d rather not find out,” Matt said. “So, you’ve got your hand. It’s time to get back to work.”

It was meant to be a dismissal, but Grace shook her head. “You’ve been holding back on me since the beginning. I’m not sure about the details or I wouldn’t be here, but for starters, there was more on the original copy of that diary than you let me listen to.”

“That’s a bold assertion.”

“It’s true. Ethan knew it too, as if I shouldn’t have been able to work it out for myself. Jordan couldn’t have finished the virus and released it before he went on the run. He didn’t have time.”

“Sometimes scientific experiments take time. Sometimes they happen quickly.” Matt waved a hand. “Who knows what happened?”

“I do. And so does Ethan. He had the cabin his father was hiding out in bugged. He expected I would know about those journal entries, too.”

Matt didn’t respond. He licked his lips. There was no doubt about it; he was definitely uneasy. The signs weren’t overt, but in a lot of little ways he wasn’t behaving as he had at their first meeting. The air of confidence had gone.

Grace decided to take advantage of the perceived weakness and lay it down. “Ethan Lacklin knew what his father did and I think you knew he knew.”

Matt waved a hand at her.

“You warned me off Ethan, don’t you remember? Not directly, but by laying the suggestion that I visit Alex instead. Usually, the fewer generations you skip, the better information you’ll find. But you knew seeing Ethan was a bad idea. I thought maybe it was just his vocal pro-change beliefs.”

“We’re all vocally pro-change, my dear. It’s suicidal not to be.”

“But someone knew before I left this city that Jordan was here, alive, and possibly a threat. Someone started putting troops around the city. Ethan was waiting for someone to go poking around after his father. He had his son on alert and had him hold me.”

Matt shifted a bit. “I suppose it’s possible, but I really wouldn’t have expected Jordan to contact his younger son. He hated him.”

That much was evident. Grace paused to reorganize her thoughts. Finally, she said, “Look, I’ve been thinking about this and there are a few things that don’t add up. First, Ethan let slip to me–because he assumed I already knew–that there are more entries in that diary I haven’t read. Jordan Lacklin was recording them after the killing spree at Medicorp. He was staying at some cabin. Now, this brings to mind two interesting questions. First, I had been under the impression that Jordan left that diary at Medicorp after the shootings. He didn’t. So I’d like to know where and how you got it. Second, I want to know where the rest of it is.”

Matt stared at her without giving anything away. He did not even speak.

“For that matter, I’d love to know why you didn’t tell me about the rest of it before. I accept this might not happen. You’re a man with many secrets. But I won’t continue this investigation without the rest of the diary.”

“What else does Ethan know about this?” Matt asked.

“He knows a lot. I don’t think he knows exactly where his father is, but he knows you’re the one who sent me and he made credible threats against you and your employees.”

“I see.”

They sat there in silence for a minute, Matt staring at Grace while Grace stared out the window, thinking hard. She’d laid it all out in front of him. He hadn’t even denied the existence of more of the diary, yet he didn’t want to give it to her. Why? That was always the important question, the first one she should have asked herself. What would make him hold something like that back? What would cause him to then set her up for failure? Maybe he hadn’t realized Ethan knew or what he would do if he did, but he had still left out valuable information.

Maybe it incriminated him in some way. She didn’t see how. Jordan had made those diary entries a long time ago, well before the man sitting before her had any idea who he was or why he was important.

Or maybe it wasn’t direct incrimination. Maybe it was circumstantial, but powerful enough to convict given the bloodlust The Establishment had for him now. What if they spelled out some kind of motive for him to kill his father?

Grace looked back at Matt, whose gaze had not wavered for a minute.

“Fine,” Grace said. “I’m off the case.”

“You may find that very uncomfortable,” Matt said.

“Do you honestly think discomfort could scare me after what I’ve been through?” Grace lifted her prosthetic hand, although she realized as soon as she did that the quality of the arm made this a feeble demonstration. “Look, I told you my success rate was fifty-fifty. Well, I’m done. I’ve looked and could not find Jordan Lacklin. If there is some new information, I can reconsider my decision to close the case.”

Grace turned to leave. She did not hesitate as she strode to the door. She knew Matt wasn’t bluffing–if she walked off this case now she’d be dead or worse–but she wasn’t bluffing either. If that was the consequence, then so be it. She didn’t think she’d survive the case anyway. It had always been a risk.

She had almost reached the elevator when Lucas called for her to stop. She hesitated, turned, and saw Matt striding across the spacious lobby. He looked out of place outside his office. Or maybe it was his flustered expression that looked out of place.

“Please step back into my office, Ms. Harper.”

She knew she had won, but she did not so much as smile at her victory while she followed the old timer back into his office. Suddenly, his hair looked grayer and his face looked more lined. She had a sudden sense of standing in the presence of living history and realized if aging returned to normal, such living records would no longer exist.

Mr. Stanton closed the door and poured himself a tall glass of water. “We may be here for a while. Would you like some?”

He held up the pitcher of water. Grace had a sudden flash of Ethan, offering her a glass of water to accompany a meal that should have been her last.

“Grace?”

“Um, yes, that’s fine.”

He lifted an eyebrow, but did not inquire further. He carried two tall glasses of water to his desk, placed one in front of her, and sat down. “Please, sit.”

She did.

He pulled from his drawer another diary, much like the one he had given her save this one looked older somehow. She knew instantly that this was the original. The other had been an incomplete copy.

“There are hundreds of years worth of messages on this diary,” Matt said. “Far too many for me to play for you now. Jordan continued to dictate messages to his wife, even after she died. I don’t think he ever quite believed she was dead. He often spoke of, ‘Not believing it until he saw her grave.’”

“You’ve listened to all of them?” Grace asked.

“Yes,” Matt said. “I found it shortly after my father died and I spent most of the rest of that week listening, though I already knew what much of it said.”

“I’ll take a summary, if it’s honest,” Grace said.

“No lies,” Matt said. “I was hoping you wouldn’t need the whole truth. I convinced myself Jordan went off to find Alex and that would be the end of it. He speaks of Alex often throughout the years.”

“Then why didn’t you just go yourself?” Grace asked.

“Jordan is still proud of what he did all those years ago. I’m asking him to turn it all upside down. I wasn’t sure he’d come willingly.”

“So then my job is to–what? You want me to capture him for you?”

“Possibly,” Matt said. “I’m hoping not. I did offer him freedom.”

It took Grace a moment to parse the meaning of that. “You know where he’s been the last four hundred years, don’t you?”

“He’s been right here in this building,” Matt said. “I only found out three months ago, but my father knew, of course. He found him after Jordan fled from the scene of that murder and offered him a job in exchange for not turning Jordan over to the police.”