“The QNA has agreed to cooperate,” Charley said, walking into Jack’s office and shutting the door. She smiled ruefully. “It’s probably planning its own additions to the strategy right now. By the way, it wants to be called Ambrose.”
Neither Jack nor Michael responded to the news.
“There’s been a change of plan,” Michael snapped. Anger radiated from him. Rapid-fire orders blistered his phone.
Charley listened to the curt explanations and orders, then turned to question Jack, who was seated at his desk. “Solomon’s coming here, today?”
They were meant to have today to prepare. Ambrose needed briefing on what to look for in reading Solomon. She’d also wanted Ambrose’s input into the idea of a sensory bio-enhancement center being established at Jabberwocky. Did Ambrose want to be involved in it? Would it be willing to relocate or grow a second intelligence at Jabberwocky?
Jack held up a finger, and Charley stopped to listen.
On the phone, Michael hadn’t finished. “Nic, Ted and Aaron from Jabberwocky will also turn up. Let them in, but I want a guard with them the whole way.” He clicked off the phone.
Charley’s thoughts stuttered. She’d thought the trio were long gone, probably overseas. Their first concern, it had been obvious, was to protect themselves and the keys to the new world of perception that they carried. But if free exploration of their new world was their objective, why were they still here? And what would their presence mean for Michael’s plan? The trio provided another avenue for understanding sensory bio-enhancement that Michael had narrowed to Jack and the QNA. Charley struggled to form a coherent question, let alone grasp the changed situation. “Did Solomon catch up with them?”
Michael bared his teeth in an unfriendly grin. “That bunch of lunatics contacted Solomon and told him they’d meet him here. Then they phoned Jack.”
The trio had been busy.
“What are they thinking?” Charley asked. They’d seemed to respect Jack, and they must know that he wanted to keep New Hope and its clients safe. So why, with everything looking normal and peaceful at the clinic, would the trio contact Solomon to meet them here?
Michael muttered something obscene about being too clever. They’d disrupted his plans, and so earned his disapproval.
“Well, at least it removes the need for us to contact Solomon and convince him to come here.” Charley tried to look on the bright side.
Michael scowled.
She shrugged. So, now was not the time for little Miss Sunshine, but what else could she offer? Jack seemed locked in his own dark mood, half his attention on his computer screen. The news of his sensory bio-enhancement program had gone out. His email inbox was undoubtedly overflowing. He was worried, and it showed, despite his awesome self-discipline.
Michael paced the office.
Perhaps it controlled his tension, but it raised Charley’s.
Jack’s computer blipped the arrival of new email. For an instant, his frown lifted. “Dr. Peverill. Most of my emails this morning have been driveling responses to the release of the sensory bio-e patents and notes.” His frown descended again. “It hasn’t hit the media yet, or if it has, they haven’t worked out what it means.”
She smiled at his unthinking assessment of her profession’s intelligence.
He didn’t notice. He scanned Dr. Peverill’s email even as he grumbled. “First, she tells me off for risking the trio in a trial. Then she says she understands why I’ve gone public ‘prematurely’ with the information of sensory bio-enhancement—to safeguard the technology, the trial subjects and myself. Huh.”
“She struck me as an intelligent woman,” Charley said, remembering their brief meeting in Sydney. “And since she doesn’t know about the QNA’s sentience, that’s a good summation.”
Jack grunted. “She’s passed my email onto—”
“The trio are here,” Michael interrupted. His phone was glued to his ear.
Charley got up and went to stand beside him at the window. Everything looked normal: staff cars filled the shady parking spots in the gravel car park; the lawn was green, neatly trimmed and empty; and beyond the lawn was a small paddock occupied by two old ponies, always ready to stand for an ear scratch or carrot from bored regeneration clients or their visitors. Just now the ponies were dozing in the sun, their long tails flicking idly at flies. The sudden appearance of a swiftly moving, expensive car didn’t disturb them at all.
The vehicle zoomed up the drive, ignored the parking lot and stopped by the veranda steps. Seen that close, the driver was unknown, but the trio were instantly recognizable.
Michael nodded once in grim satisfaction. “They tried coming across country. I had them leave their car. I’m not having them vanish on us again.” So that explained the fourth person. He was on Michael’s staff. Michael didn’t want the trio striking out independently and changing his game plan a second time—and this time he had the personnel to stop them.
Charley watched Nicola, Aaron and Ted climb out of the vehicle, and questioned Michael’s confidence.
None of the trio moved with the constraint of people compelled to follow someone else’s plan. They may have arrived at New Hope in one of Michael’s vehicles, driven by one of Michael’s people, but they’d chosen to be there. If they chose once more to disappear, would anyone really be able to stop them? All three looked as physically fit as special forces troops, and were undoubtedly as well-trained.
They walked in confidently, only the quick glance each shot at Jack suggested a chink in their armor.
Good. Charley hoped they felt some guilt. They knew Jack didn’t want them here, bringing danger to his regeneration clients.
Three dirt-smeared backpacks dropped to the ground in an out-of-the-way corner of the office. The trio then took their places on a long sofa against the window.
Charley bit her lip to hold back her questions. Why are you here? Where have you been?
Beside her, Michael held himself still.
“What are you planning?” Jack asked, finally closing his computer.
“A showdown.” Typically, it was Nicola who answered, her combative streak on display, but Aaron and Ted looked tensely determined, too.
“I thought you had slipped away from the CIA.” Charley moved away from Michael, her gaze sliding toward him. “And whoever.”
Nicola’s chin rose to a militant angle. “If we have to go on the run to be safe in Australia, then the country’s a mess.”
“No doubt.” Jack’s uncertain mood morphed into amusement.
Charley realized just how worried he’d been about his trial subjects’ safety. Seeing them whole, healthy and combative, had halved his stress. His eyes crinkled as he caught her comprehending look.
“We weren’t running scared,” Nicola said.
In contrast to her indignant tone, Ted spoke quietly. “We have a lot to explore and understand about sensory bio-e, and we need time and space to do that.” He looked at Charley. “We weren’t running from anyone in particular. We just need time to come to terms with who we are.”
“More time?” Michael mocked, referring to the year at Jabberwocky
He was right. But maybe not in the way he meant. The trio had had a year at Jabberwocky under Jack’s care and paid for by Michael, yet they hadn’t shared their true experiences of sensory bio-e with either of the two men. In addition, at the point where the trio were of real importance in setting the path forward for the sensory bio-enhancement project, they’d vanished. Michael was right to remind them of all they’d had, and the poor return of loyalty they’d shown for it.
Jack just leaned back in his chair and watched them all.
“Forget it,” Michael said in disgust. He stared out the window. “Solomon’s here.”
Charley swung round. Solomon was driving into the car park in his small rental car. Charley had vaguely expected an upgrade to a more impressive vehicle.
A tall thin man unfolded himself from the passenger seat of the ca
r.
Michael bit out a violent curse.
“A friend of yours?” Aaron asked. The would-be amusement in his voice rang false.
Michael ignored the question. With the light from the window outlining his tall figure, he looked ominous.
Charley retreated a step or two, and sat down. She found herself facing Ted.
He didn’t look like a mystic today. His eyes were clear and focused. He was intent on the present moment as experienced by everyone in the room.
From outside came the sound of the steady pace of the two middle-aged men as they climbed the porch steps and crossed the reception area to Jack’s office.
Like everyone, Charley watched the doorway.
Both men wore suits, but where Solomon’s was creased and his tie absently knotted, the stranger’s presentation was impeccable. His black suit fitted precisely across his shoulders, square and powerful looking, and if he carried a gun, the suit hid it. One swift professional glance assessed the room and its occupants, then he looked to Solomon to perform introductions.
Solomon, however, was focused on the seated trio.
Michael broke the silence, though it was Jack’s office. “Morwood.” It was the acknowledgement of a duelist, all antagonism controlled and channeled for use. “Dr. John Bradshaw, Karl Morwood, CIA Director, Asia Pacific.”
Karl Morwood stepped forward, and he and Jack shook hands across Jack’s desk.
“Charlotte Rowdon, a journalist,” Michael continued.
A gleam appeared in Morwood’s pale blue eyes. “I take note we’re on record.” He also noted Charley’s disability, and shook hands left-handed. Not easily disconcerted; a man of whom to be wary.
“And the three from Jabberwocky. Captain Nicola Payne, Sergeant Aaron McIlroy and Edward Rovnik.”
The trio didn’t stand to shake hands, and after a study of their reserved expressions, Morwood simply nodded at them and took his seat.
Michael also sat. “I assume you all know Dr. Solomon?”
“I haven’t met the trial subjects,” Solomon said.
Aaron grinned at the terminology, trial subjects. Less than human, more than human, who knew where the sensory bio-enhancement technology would lead? “Thank you for coming here as we asked, despite not knowing us.”
Jack brought his chair around to the front of his desk and sat there with Charley on his left and Michael to his right. The trio sat on the sofa beyond Michael, with their backs to the window, facing Solomon and Karl Morwood across the coffee table.
Charley crossed her ankles, resisting the urge to shift further from Solomon and closer to Jack.
“I…we,” Solomon corrected himself. “Are interested to hear why you three contacted us now, after going to some effort to avoid us, including your security organizations keeping quiet about the sensory bio-enhancement project.” He was obviously affronted that Australian security had dared to hide anything from its American senior partner.
“We received permission last night to talk with you,” Ted answered. “We returned to support John.”
Charley’s eyebrows wanted to climb roofwards, but she kept a noncommittal expression. The trio had returned for Jack?
“We are the proof of sensory bio-enhancement’s success,” Nicola interrupted, impatient with Ted’s quiet approach. “Without us, John’s work can be disputed. We are the proof of its success. But you don’t really want to dispute sensory bio-e, do you? You just want to control it.”
Aaron wrested the conversation from Nicola before anyone could respond to her challenge. “Sensory bio-e is not simply a mechanical extension of existing senses. In our case, sight, hearing and smell. There is a qualitative as well as a quantitative alteration in our sensory perception. Our senses perceive not only a greater range, but an altered range.”
Nicola concentrated on Solomon and Morwood. “After sensory bio-e, the world we know is different to that known by other humans.”
Solomon was eager to agree. “It’s logical. Human understanding of the world is mediated by our senses.”
“How do you explain the color purple to a person born blind?” Ted murmured.
Morwood cleared his throat. “That’s the critical point, the one that makes me question whether any of this is true.” He glanced at Jack’s modified left hand. “I can see the proof of plain bio-enhancement, but for sensory bio-enhancement to work, the human brain has to relearn its interpretation of sensory input. A child who doesn’t use its sight in the first year of life will never see, even if the physical impediment to sight is corrected. The brain learns a certain pattern for dealing with sensory data and that pattern sets like concrete.” He stared around the room, inviting rebuttal.
“The brain is not concrete. Relearning is possible.” Solomon was a true believer.
However, Morwood didn’t want his opinion. His stare dismissed Solomon and fixed on Jack. “Well?”
And Charley finally understood Jack’s behavior. He’d never pushed center stage. He’d allowed everyone else to exercise their talents—the trio, Michael, her. She’d resented Michael’s assumption of power in handling the situation, but power was what Michael did best. He had political, financial and personal clout, and the will and ability to use that power.
Jack had given Michael the room to run with his talent, but Jack’s relinquishment of control in no way diminished his own position.
Morwood knew it, too.
Jack could stay in the background, share his bio-enhancement patents, do anything, but he remained the key to the new world revealed by sensory bio-enhancement, and that made him a critical player. So much of bio-enhancement and Ambrose’s future was Jack’s call.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the man from the CIA. “If I agreed with you—that sensory bio-e is impossible—would that be an end to your interest?”
A smile of what appeared to be genuine amusement curved Morwood’s thin mouth. His gaze flicked to Michael and back to Jack. “Not likely.”
Jack nodded. “Then there’s something you should see in the QNA lab.”
Chapter Sixteen
Charley puzzled over Jack’s invitation. Why was he allowing Solomon and Morwood into the QNA lab? Did he want Ambrose to read their minds, or did Jack truly intend to reveal the QNA’s sentience?
He touched her shoulder in passing as they all stood and moved towards the office door, but he didn’t explain or pause. He walked ahead of the small group, accompanied by Morwood, with Solomon treading on their heels.
The trio, by contrast, lagged behind Charley and Michael. Whatever they had expected of this meeting with Solomon, Jack had hijacked it. Yet they seemed unfazed.
Michael had the strongest, most atypical reaction. He damped down the force of his personality and took on the role of observer. He slowed his steps so he was a little distance behind Solomon though still ahead of the trio, and whispered to Charley. “Ready?”
Ready for what? She looked at him in complete confusion. To talk with the QNA? Well, that happened regardless of her wishes whenever she stepped into the lab. Ready to trust Jack, and by extension, to trust Michael as Jack had requested?
The answer was yes, because she did trust Jack. Yet the leap of trust was so huge that she mentally turned away from it. If she thought about what she was doing for too long, perhaps she would behave like the trio had before, and simply run.
Latching onto any distraction, she waited for the trio to catch up. If no one was telling her what was going on, then she had to make up her own mind, decide her own plan of action.
She slowed her pace further, and the gap between Jack, Morwood and Solomon and the rest of them increased, giving the trio and her a sort of privacy. She looked at Nicola. “I’d like to know what you heard in the QNA lab.”
For a second, Nicola hesitated, then she said. “Waves. I heard ocean waves.”
Michael dropped back. “Like you hear underwater.”
“What?” The question came from all four of his listeners.
>
A small flush deepened the color over his cheekbones. “Ah. Perhaps Alan’s operation on me wasn’t a complete failure.”
He’d lied! His sensory bio-enhancement had worked.
Jack turned and waited for them at the door to the lab.
Michael shrugged his shoulders in the face of Charley and Nicola’s glares. He’d timed his confession impeccably. There was no opportunity to question him.
“Usually Dr. Alan Do would play host here in the lab.” Jack glanced at Charley and she realized he was playing for time—time for her to communicate with Ambrose. She slipped into the lab.
By the trio’s scrupulous avoidance of looking in her direction and their amblingly slow entrance and positioning around the QNA lab, they’d guessed something of Jack’s intention and were willing to help.
Charley had a breathing space. She leaned against a filing cabinet in the corner near the door and concentrated on Ambrose’s immediate outpouring of information.
Ambrose was eager to communicate with her. “Solomon is very pleased with himself. He thought Jack was hiding some secret process, possibly to do with my QNA strands. Solomon ordered a man to break-into the lab and steal some of me, and records. The man failed”
Charley stopped herself from nodding agreement. “Alan said he’d seen a man trying to break-in to New Hope.” Interesting, but not the point at issue. “Can you tell what Solomon and Karl Morwood’s plans are?”
Ambrose did its best. “It is difficult to sort through human thinking and put it into words. Solomon distrusts everyone. He wants a secret that he thinks Jack is keeping from him. He doesn’t think it is me—genetically modified QNA that enables bio-enhancement—he thinks it is a neurohormone.
“Karl Morwood is less single-minded; harder to read. Sensory bio-enhancement is important to him, but not overwhelmingly. It is just one element in an arsenal of new weapons to change the world, to shift the balance of power. Power is what he wants. Michael hates him.”
Beyond Regeneration Page 20