Sims (44 page)

Zero almost said, Glad to hear it, but reconsidered. Wouldn't be appropriate.

“Coffee, then?”

Ellis shook his head. “I can't stay long. As I told you, the reason I'm here is because I didn't want to discuss this over the phone. May I sit?”

“Of course.”

How strange to acquiesce to a request for a seat from the owner of the house. Since the purchase of real estate would be—to put it mildly—awkward for Zero, Ellis Sinclair had bought the place for him years ago.

“I gather this is fairly important then,” Zero said as they seated themselves, Ellis on the couch, and Zero in the recliner.

A vague anxiety had been nibbling at him since Ellis's call late this afternoon. What was too sensitive to discuss over an encrypted phone?

“More than fairly. In fact I was followed tonight—by Portero himself, I believe.”

“But you lost him.” It was a statement. He knew Ellis would have aborted his visit if he thought he was being followed.

“Yes. Took a subway to Forest Hills and rented a car there.” He shifted in his chair. “But let me cut to the chase here: Someone asked a very disturbing question at the stockholders' meeting today.”

Zero nodded. “You mean about ‘surge'?”

“Exactly. One of your people, I presume?”

“Yes. Ms. Cadman. It was her idea. We heard the word from a man who tried to assault her, and she thought that would be a way to see if it meant anything.”

“Just the word?” Ellis said, his eyebrows lifting. “That's all you have?”

Too much had been happening lately to allow Zero time to give Ellis one of his irregular briefings, so he filled him in now on the invasion of Romy's apartment, the Totuus, and Palmer's resultant aphasia.

“So you have no idea what this Palmer fellow was referring to,” Ellis said.

“Not yet. But we know it means something. And I figure you're the man who can tell us just what.”

Ellis tapped his fingers on the armrest of the recliner. This went on for an agonizing minute. Then, “No, I'm not.”

“What?” Zero couldn't hide his shock. “You're a founder of SimGen! This goes back to Manassas Ventures. They gave you start-up capital. You've
got
to know!”

“I do know,” Ellis said. “But I can't tell you.”

“
Another
thing you can't tell me?” He could feel his blood rising. “When I found Kek you said you couldn't tell me anything about him or about what was going on in Idaho. ‘Too sensitive,' you said. Now two men attempt a chemical rape on the minds of Romy Cadman and Patrick Sullivan; we ask one of them who sent him and he tells us ‘surge.' You know who that is and won't tell me? Why on earth not? ‘Too sensitive' again?”

“No,” Ellis said, his gaze boring into Zero. “Too dangerous.”

“It's already dangerous.”

“But you've sampled only a taste of what's waiting for you if you push this further.”

“You're telling me to back off?”

“I'm
begging
you to back off.”

Zero couldn't believe what he was hearing. But the emotion in Ellis's voice—fear, desperation—were real.

“Isn't this what you set me up to do?”

“No, it's not. Your goal—our goal—is to turn the public against SimGen and the idea of sims as laborers.
Stop further cloning of sims
—that was the goal, remember?”

“Of course. And how better to turn the public against SimGen than to find its dirty laundry and wave it in the air for all to see?”

“You have no idea what you're getting into, the forces you'll be setting in motion . . . they'll crush you.”

“They have to find us first.”

“Zero, leave it alone, I beg you. You're making progress on so many other fronts. You don't need—”

“Progress? What progress? SimGen is opening more natal centers all the time!”

“We may soon have to rethink that with the tide of public opinion turning. Manufacturers, one or two of them major, are starting to advertise their products, their clothes, toys, appliances, and so on, as ‘sim-free.' Mutual funds specializing in sim-free companies are springing up. The Beacon Ridge poisoning—it's awful to look at it as anything but an atrocity, but something good did come out of it because it's accelerated the process.” Ellis leaned forward, his expression intense, alive with hope. “We're
winning
, Zero. Leave Manassas Ventures and the rest alone.”

We're
not
winning, damn it, Zero thought, his frustration a fire in his gut.

“What we've been doing until now is like trying to tame a killer carnivore by removing its food supply. Can't be done. Or if it can, it'll take a lifetime. But that was all we had, the only way we knew to deal with it. Until now. Now we may have found a weapon, one that can strike at the heart of the beast. And that changes everything.”

“But you're forgetting that there's a pregnant sim somewhere out there. Find her and prove that the father of her child is human and our war is won!”

“
If
we find her. That's a very, very big ‘if,' Ellis. And if we don't, and if we neglect this ‘surge' lead while we hunt for her, then we may miss a crucial opportunity.”

“I know you're chafing to end this crusade, but you have no idea what you're getting into.”

“They've already tried to kill Romy and Patrick. What can be worse?

“They can
succeed
. And they will. Keep pushing this and some of your people will die.”

The words jolted Zero. He'd realized that when Romy and Patrick had been run off the highway, but hearing it said aloud . . .

Ellis leaned back and closed his eyes. “You want to strike at the beast. I understand that. But I've been living in the belly of that beast for decades and believe me, Zero, it's dark in there. It's full of things that should never see the light of day.”

“What sort of things?”

“Painful things. Things that will hurt me personally, and devastate other, more innocent, parties. Things that no one will want to hear. And don't think you'll come through unscathed, either.”

Zero swallowed. “What do you mean?” He couldn't suppress a mocking tone. “Or is it ‘too sensitive' again?”

Ellis looked away and shook his head. “Some of it is sensitive. And some of it is . . . unspeakable.”

The last word lingered in the air between them. Zero's mouth felt dry, his tongue like old leather. He couldn't bear the thought of one of the most decent, moral men he had ever known connected to something unspeakable. What had Ellis got himself into?

“So,” Ellis said finally. “Do we understand each other? Will you concentrate on finding Meerm and back away from Manassas?”

Shaking his head was the hardest thing Zero had ever done in his life. How could he turn down this man who'd been so good to him? But he didn't see any other choice.

“I can't do that. Even if I wanted to, I doubt I could call off Romy and Patrick.”

“Of course you can. You're they're leader.”

“Causes take on a life of their own. Romy and Patrick are off and running like hounds who've caught a scent. There's no whistling them back.”

Ellis rubbed a hand across his eyes, then dragged it down his face. He looked ten years older than when he'd arrived.

Zero said, “But I will do this. I will push the search for Meerm as best as I can. If that pans out, then Manassas and ‘surge' will be moot.”

“I pray so.”

Looking exhausted, Ellis rose slowly from the recliner and shrugged into his coat.

“Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?”

“I wish there were, Ellis. You don't know how much it hurts me to go against you.”

“Hurt? You don't know hurt, Zero. Keep on this road, and it will come
to a very bad end. A terrible end. And you . . . you may end up the sorriest of all.”

Without another word, Ellis Sinclair opened the door, stepped outside, and walked to his car, leaving Zero wondering if he'd just made the worst mistake of his life.

NEWARK, NJ
DECEMBER 20

Benny come and go. Meerm can't stay hide. Too many kick inside when Meerm squeeze into wall. And must go wee. Meerm go wee so ver much these day. Leave closet now.

Feel stuff on floor. Look see white powder. Meerm touch taste. Mmmm. Sugar. Why sugar on floor?

Meerm not know. Must go wee now. Meerm hurry to bathroom. Do wee. When Meerm finish she flush.

No-no-no! Meerm forget! Must not flush! Nev flush in day when no sim round! Benny hear!

Benny come now! Meerm hurry to closet. Climb to shelf. So hard, so ver hard climb. Squeeze into hole. Squeeze-squeeze-squeeze.

“I heard that! Goddamn it I might imagine a creak or a thump, but I know I ain't imaginin no toilet flush!

Meerm squeeze into hole, push board back. Wait and listen.

“Ay! Lookit that! Tracks through my sugar! So I ain't loco! Someone's up here, an I know just where you are, man!”

Meerm hear bang-bang-bang on closet door. Jump with every bang.

“I don't know where you was hidin before, but Benny gotcha now! Ain't no monkey gonna outsmart Benny. Benny outsmart
you
! So come on out where I can see you!”

Meerm not come out. Meerm too scare. Meerm stay. Benny nev find Meerm here behind board.

Bang-bang-bang again. “Hey! You hear me? No sense draggin this out. It's over! You tagged!” Meerm hear closet door open. “You—what the fuck?” Hear hangers move. “Hey! What's goin on here?”

Now Benny start bang closet wall—bang-bang-bang! Ver loud to Meerm behind board. Meerm hold breath and hold ear. Now Benny bang Meerm board. No-no-no! Board move. Meerm see light.

“Ay, lookit this shit! Damn me, there's a space back there! Ay, that where you are? That where you been hidin on Benny? Say somethin, will ya? Awright, dammit. That the way you wanna be . . .”

Meerm hear Benny go but Meerm stay. Not move. Then hear Benny come back. Hear chair drag across floor. Benny push board and big light shine in Meerm eye.

“There you are, you lazy monkey. Playin hooky from the job, huh? Wait'll I tell the boss. Ay, you're a plump one, aintcha. Whatcha been doin? Eatin all day? You—wait a minute. Wait a fuckin minute. You that sim they lookin for! The pregnant one! The five-million-dollar sim! Holy Christ! Holy Christ! You her! An I gotcha! I gotcha!”

Light go way, Benny go way, then closet door close. Meerm hear bumps against closet door.

What Benny say? Meerm pregnant sim. What pregnant? Meerm five-million-dollar sim. What five million? Meerm not understand. Meerm try understand later. Now Meerm must run. Benny find Meerm. Benny will call mans who hurt.

Meerm climb out on closet shelf and drop to floor. Push on closet door but door not move. Meerm push so ver hard. Push-push-push, but door not move. Door locked. No-no-no!

Meerm trapped. Meerm ver fraid and ver scare. Meerm shake inside and out, almost hard as kick-kick-kick. Meerm cry. Poor, poor Meerm.

SUSSEX COUNTY, NJ

“Mr. Portero,” Nowicki's voice said through Luca's office intercom, “I think you'd better take this call.”

“Who is it?”

“Calls himself Benny Morales and says he knows you. Says he's got the pregnant sim.”

“Sure. Him and half a million others.”

Luca shook his head. How many times had he heard that since the five-megabuck reward hit the news? People were crawling out of the woodwork with crazy stories, some wishful thinking, others outright lies. Meerm, or an equally pregnant sim, had been sighted in Chicago, San Francisco, Buenos Aires, London, Hong Kong. The world was suddenly full of pregnant sims.

“This Morales says he met you at the Newark crib when you came looking for the pregnant sim; says she's been hiding there right under his nose all along.”

Luca remembered Morales now, a quick, jittery little ferret of a man. Remembered that damn crib too. After a weeklong fruitless vigil, he'd yanked surveillance from the place, figuring if the pregnant sim hadn't returned by then, she wasn't coming back at all.

But if she'd never left the building in the first place . . .

“Put him though.”

Luca's hand darted toward the phone and hovered over the receiver. He let it ring twice before picking up.

A few minutes later, after listening to Morales's story, Luca hung up and jabbed the intercom button. “Nowicki. Get Grimes and Alessi. Meet me in the garage. We're rolling!”

This was it. Morales's story hung together too well to be anything but the real thing.

We've found her!

Luca felt as if a magnum of Dom Perignom had popped open inside his chest.

NEWARK, NJ

The rain clouds that had been threatening all day opened up just in time to snarl traffic throughout the metropolitan area. So it was well after dark when Luca and his men arrived at the crib. Benny Morales met them at the front door.

“Upstairs!” he said, leading them up a narrowstairway. “I got her trapped, locked up tight inna closet an I been keepin an eye on it alla time 'cept for when I was watchin for you at the window so I know she still in there.”

Morales had reminded Luca of a ferret last visit; now he was a ferret on speed. Luca could understand that. The little man was going to be a multi-millionaire. But Luca was going to recapture his pride and his credibility, and maybe even his future, and that was worth more.

“There it is,” Morales said, as he led them into a bunk-filled space on the second floor.

“Where are the rest of your sims?”

“Not back yet.” He glanced at his watch. “Maybe half hour. But look here.” He stepped farther into the room and pointed to a door on the right. “She in there.” He held up an old-fashioned skeleton key. “I got her locked and blocked. She ain't goin nowhere nohow.”