The curve of the bushes collected the sun while blocking the wind from the ocean. It was warm enough for bees to be buzzing happily among the flowers, but Charley felt cold. The thought of the CIA’s interest in Jack’s work held a new menace given his just-mentioned fears for the exploitation of the QNA’s sentience.
Solomon drew a deep breath, slowly straightening his spine. He stared back at the office building. “It took me a while to work out what bio-enhancement really meant. At first, I thought it was gimmicky—grafting fur and feather onto healthy humans—but as a matter of routine I had the CIA investigate Bradshaw’s associates and they found Michael Janz. A little more digging, once Janz’s involvement raised a red flag, found the sensory bio-enhancement project Bradshaw’s running on the side at Jabberwocky.”
So much for Nicola’s blithe assurance that the project was a secret from the Americans.
“Sensory bio-enhancement is a whole new ballgame.” Solomon’s tone slid from excuse and regret to lecturing. His enthusiasm was obvious. “Since the Ancient Greeks humanity has dreamed of creating superhumans. Sensory bio-enhancement is too important for Janz to control it.”
“Michael doesn’t, though, does he?” she pointed out. “There are other players. Jack, the trial subjects and their superiors, you.”
“Me.” There was something odd in his voice.
She looked at him. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Solomon half-smiled with some of the charm Charley had seen in Sydney. “You encourage confessions, Charlotte. You listen as if you want to understand the person and not just their words. Your intentness is compelling.”
She dismissed it as empty flattery.
“I’m not a killer. I don’t want you thinking that. I want you to understand.” Solomon controlled his voice. “I met Lillian Do at the Sydney conference. She was obviously dissatisfied with her life, and that made her bribable. On the last day of the conference, after I’d learned of Janz’s involvement, I bought a copy of Bradshaw’s notes on the sensory bio-enhancement experiment, the Jabberwocky project that no one knew about.”
Perhaps I owe Nicola an apology. The CIA hadn’t discovered the project: Lillian had sold out the Jabberwocky trio. “Did Lillian suggest the sale, or you?”
“Once she mentioned the project, I did. But the fact that Lillian had an electronic copy of the notes with her is suggestive, don’t you think?”
Charley did. Lillian had traded information and Jack’s trust, not to mention her own and her husband’s positions, for money. “I hope you paid her well.”
Had Lillian also sold the QNA, Nicola, Aaron and Ted, and Jack into danger?
Solomon’s mouth thinned. “Lillian wanted more. She phoned me that night. Bradshaw had my phone number, and clearly Lillian had access to his notes. She threatened me.” He sounded outraged even in retrospect. “She said she’d destroy my reputation, tell the world I’d bought Bradshaw’s notes.”
“But if you’d denied it…”
“And then started my own sensory bio-enhancement trials—there would always have been a cloud over my work, over my name.” He focused on Charley, willing her to believe him. “I didn’t mean to kill Lillian, but she said she’d tell Janz, and that he’d know how to go public with the information.”
Had Lillian meant the threat? Charley snapped a twig from the bushes and rubbed a finger along the narrow leaves, releasing the aromatic scent of diosma.
Lillian had tried to blackmail Michael about his sensory bio-enhancement, would she then have turned around and used him to expose Solomon? Would Michael have paid her for the information? Could he have used it in some Washington game against the CIA?
“I refused to be blackmailed. I told Lillian not to be so damn stupid. Who would believe some dumb nurse over me? She flew at me. I must have hit a psychological nerve, a sense of inferiority. I pushed her away. She fell, hit her head on a rock. A freak accident. She died instantly.”
Charley ran his words against the memories the QNA had stolen and shared. They hadn’t shown the conversation he described, but they had shown the vicious shove he’d given Lillian and his sick surge of panic and anger. Maybe Solomon hadn’t meant to kill Lillian, but he had been in a killing mood.
He brooded, staring at the ground. From New Hope came the distant sound of voices and movement. Ordinary life continued.
“There’s no proof of murder,” she said.
“None at all. No one saw me meet Lillian on the rocks. I don’t know how you guessed, but you can’t take a guess to the police.”
She turned to face him straightly. “What do you want me to do?” She dropped the bruised twig with an impatient movement. “You told the story for more reasons than my sympathetic manner.”
“You’re close to Bradshaw.”
Hell, Nicola, you’re right, Charley thought, savagely. I am Jack’s Achilles Heel.
“Tell John Bradshaw he’s surrounded by people he can’t trust. Where’s Lillian’s husband, Dr. Alan Do? Did he help her steal Bradshaw’s work? And whatever Bradshaw does, he mustn’t trust Janz. One final message. Tell Bradshaw I’ve read his notes and I have some questions for him about sensory bio-enhancement. It’s revolutionary, Charlotte, and I intend to be the man who controls it.”
She shuddered at the vehemence of his last sentence. Her skin prickled in an awareness of danger. All the crime novels agreed: after the first murder, the rest were easy—but that was melodrama surely? Far more scary was the reality of Solomon’s identity. A man who’d spent his adult life involved in CIA games could grow some warped principles. Solomon was coming to the end of his professional career. What would he give to be the man who gave the world superhumans?
A certain type of man might sell his soul for the opportunity.
Charley made a decision. “I think you should tell Jack yourself.”
They found Jack seated in his office, rolling up his sleeves. The in-tray at the corner of his desk was stacked high enough to threaten toppling over and he was studying it with grim resignation.
“Sorry to interrupt, Jack, but Solomon has a message he wants to give you.”
“Dr. Solomon?” Jack looked from Charley’s unencouraging expression to the older man. “Have you just arrived?”
“He was in the QNA lab,” she said.
Jack settled his glasses firmly on his nose. “I’m sorry there wasn’t someone available to show you around. Normally the lab is Alan Do’s province, but with Lillian’s death…”
“I understand.” Solomon sat, uninvited. He was recovering his usual manner: confident, kindly, with a hint of professional superiority.
Charley chose a seat where she could watch the expressions on both men’s faces.
Jack had taken her mention of the QNA lab as it was meant—as a warning to be on his guard. The courtesies he offered were a time-filler until he could see his way.
She realized with a rush of relief that, despite his success with regeneration and the discovery of bio-enhancement, people tended to underestimate his general intelligence. They thought of him as a narrow scientist, but in fact he had the intuitive understanding of human behavior which is the mark of a good family doctor.
Charley had thought Solomon possessed a similar awareness and respect for humanity. He wasn’t fundamentally bad, but the temptation of the power that would result from creating a cadre of superhumans had proved too much for him.
Would the world revealed by sensory bio-enhancement and the QNA’s sentience be simply a new stage for the same old battles? Battles for control and power over other people.
Solomon hitched himself forward in his chair. “I hesitate to state my position as starkly as I did to Charley,” he began.
“He killed Lillian,” she said bluntly.
Solomon winced at the verbal slap.
Jack folded his arms, too late to hide the reflexive flexing of his claws.
“An accident,” Solomon said, hastily. “Are we being recorded?”
&
nbsp; “No.” Jack’s answer was growled from behind closed teeth.
“Good. Because you could never use what I’m going to say.”
Why not? And why was Solomon regaining his confidence.
Jack stayed with the main issue. “Why did you kill Lillian?”
“I bought your notes on the Jabberwocky project from Lillian Do.” Solomon held Jack’s gaze, challenging him to respond.
Jack’s impassive face showed nothing.
Even Charley couldn’t tell if Jack had known of Lillian’s last betrayal.
“The notes are incomplete,” Solomon added.
“That seems unlikely.” Jack’s glasses remained firmly anchored at the bridge of his nose. “Lillian would have given you what you paid for.”
Charley dug her fingers into her knee to keep from gasping.
Jack’s defense was remarkable on two fronts. First, he’d employed Lillian and assumed he had her loyalty, and she’d sold it. Secondly, after the trio’s confessions of their experience of sensory bio-enhancement, and what they’d withheld from official records, he had to know the notes were incomplete.
But then, why should Jack confirm Solomon’s suspicions? He was stonewalling, and that was exactly what Solomon deserved.
Jack continued evenly. “The Jabberwocky notes were fairly innocuous. The trial surprisingly uneventful. I don’t think there was any point in the notes that Lillian could have deleted with the intent of obtaining further money from you.”
“No,” Solomon agreed, and then, came the stinger. “I think you left something out.” He let the accusation rest a moment. “The easy adaption of the three trial subjects to the sensory bio-enhancement is simply not possibly. You would have me believe that the three young people experienced the revolutionary growth of animal sensory organs, their brains’ acceptance of changed sensory input, and learned to utilize the new sensitivity, all without incident.”
“It happened.”
Solomon swore concisely. “I want to examine the three trial subjects.”
“You’ll need clearance from their Australian security organizations.”
“I have it.” Solomon bit out the words. “What I don’t have is the location of your three trial subjects.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “I assumed you knew of Jabberwocky’s address.”
“They’re not there.”
In the silence, Charley studied the two men’s expressions.
Jack said, carefully. “The trio aren’t prisoners or confined to base. Perhaps they were out when you called?”
The courteously phrased suggestion so coldly offered amused Charley, but not Solomon.
“They smashed their computer equipment,” he said. “That argues against an intent to return.”
Her amusement died. It sounded as if the trio had been right to retreat, if Solomon or someone associated with him had ventured into Jabberwocky. “Does Michael know you visited?”
“Janz is in no position to protest,” Solomon snapped.
Jack’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his seat. A finger steadied his glasses. “I don’t know where the trio are.” His tone said the discussion was ended and his words enforced it. “I suggest you contact their security organizations.”
“Janz’s mother is Muslim.” Solomon stayed in his seat.
Like Charley, Jack caught the whiff of condemnation and answered it. “She’s also a respected doctor. She runs a privately funded clinic in Afghanistan for women and children.” He looked at Charley. “That’s how Michael and I met, through his mom, and it’s why I accepted him as an original partner in New Hope. Michael has always been peripherally involved in the medical world.”
Peripherally involved. Much like her own introduction to it via Eric. But how had Michael’s mom reconciled her profession with the Janz family’s source of wealth?
“Afghanistan,” Solomon repeated the name with satisfaction. “Janz has visited the clinic and surrounding area several times. There are several terrorist groups in the area. Janz has been detained for questioning.”
“But he’s here, in Australia,” Charley protested. She stared at Solomon. “You mean Australian security picked him up?”
“Enough.” Jack stood. “Michael’s supposed terrorist sympathies are no concern of mine. Dr. Solomon, I’d like you to leave.”
“I’m sure you would. But you’re wrong. If Janz is proven as a terrorist, then you are guilty of aiding and abetting him by giving him privileged access to your sensory bio-enhancement trials.”
Jack merely moved to the door and held it open. “Good-bye.”
Solomon took his time leaving.
Charley stood at the office window and watched him get into his rental car and drive away. “Is Michael’s mom Muslim?” she asked, and won a glare from Jack.
“Does it matter? Muslim, Christian, crazy cult—does it matter?” He stopped to control his temper and rising voice. “The real question is, is Michael mad enough to kill innocents under the perverted vision of a greater good. And the answer is no.”
She appreciated his defense of his friend. It was impressive, particularly given Michael’s corruption of Alan and Lillian, and his secret adoption of sensory bio-enhancement. If the unauthorized trial had gone disastrously wrong it would have destroyed Jack’s reputation and work.
Apparently, it wasn’t only the QNA who could read her mind. “Michael is practical,” Jack said. “He’s ambitious, but ambition’s not bad. It’s natural. Some people limit their ambitions because they don’t dare to ask too much of life.”
She felt a stab of self-recognition.
“But others won’t accept limits. Michael is always working an angle, looking how to get further ahead. He’s impatient too, and not overly trusting. He wanted to know about sensory bio-e firsthand.” Jack looked down at his own unsheathed claws. “Terrorists are the opposite. They have given up on the world. They see no advantage to themselves in its current state.”
“So, you don’t think Michael’s involved with terrorists?”
“Never. Terrorists are outside all normal rules. That’s not Michael. Terrorism—” He caught his glasses as they slid down his nose and slammed them back into place. “Terrorism is my three a.m. nightmare. I worry what will happen when terrorists control nuclear weapons. If they don’t value this world, why bother saving it?” His anger died to regret. “I just never thought to apply those rules to my work.”
“I don’t understand.”
His sigh was almost a groan. “People like Solomon look at bio-enhancement and dream of superhumans.”
She nodded.
“What do you think they’re willing to do to get those superhumans?”
“Whatever they have to.” She thought of Lillian’s death and Michael’s detainment. Terrorism by another name? “If they can detain Michael… Jack, you have to be careful.”
“Not me.” He was impatient.
“Me?” she queried carefully.
“I hope to God no one knows you’re important to me. But no, I’m not talking about us, or the beginning of bio-enhancement.” Anguish twisted his face, and she reached instinctively for him. “I’m talking about children. Rationally, sensory bio-enhancement has the best chance of success if applied to children, if applied before the brain has time to set patterns in mental concrete.
“The danger, as I said at the Sydney conference, is that the bio-enhancement would warp their natural growth. Terrorists, though, wouldn’t care. Collateral damage. If people apply sensory bio-enhancement to children, I’m afraid they’ll literally create monsters.”
She went rigid in horror at the nightmare he conjured. “But maybe sensory bio-enhancement won’t work for anyone else. Ted muttered something about a sentient QNA modifying its single strands with every generation so as to achieve your vision of bio-enhancement. Maybe QNA from a different lab simply won’t work.”
Jack shook his head, uncomforted and offering no comfort. He pulled away from her and stared out the
window.
Charley, feeling shut out, decided to take her worries to the QNA lab. And yes, she was aware how strange it was to seek comfort from that alien intelligence.
Chapter Fourteen
The QNA had recovered its verbal fluency, if not its calm. “It is not acceptable to deprive a person of existence,” it told Charley emphatically. “It is not acceptable that Dr. Solomon kills Lillian and leaves his guilt behind.”
She agreed with the sentiment, but the last phrase stirred her curiosity. “Doesn’t he feel guilt?” He’d looked like a man with regrets. Then again, he wasn’t crushed or deterred by them. In fact, hadn’t what she had seen in Jack’s office been Solomon casting off his regrets? And if you shrug off all regrets, all conscience, are you still human?
“Dr. Solomon,” the QNA said. “Is justifying away his guilt. Initially, I was too shocked at his recollection of killing Lillian to filter this other information from his memories. He is very interested in the potential of bio-enhancement.”
Collateral damage. Jack’s words haunted her. That’s all Lillian was—collateral damage along Solomon’s stolen path to power. “Solomon wants to control sensory bio-enhancement.”
Very faintly, she thought she felt the QNA absorb her recent conversations, including her emotional response. “We have to do something,” she added.
There was no response from the QNA.
“QNA?” Charley prompted.
“It is difficult to think about all of this.”
“Absolutely.” It overwhelmed her, and the QNA was a much younger, less mature intelligence—or was it? The QNA was evolving fast. It had a strong sense of its self-identity now.
“Will you visit tomorrow, after thought?” it asked.
Charley, who had been leaning against the sink, straightened in recognition of dismissal. First Jack, now the QNA. She smiled wryly. Well, she could think somewhere else, and what had she expected from the QNA—instant answers, sage advice, a deus ex machina? The QNA was the problem not the solution, and she couldn’t compel it to interact with her. “I’ll see you, tomorrow.”
Beyond Regeneration Page 17