by Jenna Black
She glanced back up at his face to make a hasty denial, then stopped herself. He was right. They’d just been through an unspeakable trauma together, a trauma that made everything else that had gone on between them seem trivial. But none of the things they’d said to one another had gone away, and they were both still hurting. For now, all was peaceful between them, but there was still a storm waiting to be reckoned with.
“I’m sure the same goes for you,” she responded quietly.
He smiled sadly. “Probably so. But we’ll work it out, somehow. We might not be able to go back to what we were, but maybe we can become something new and better.”
“I hope so.”
And considering how dismal her future had looked just a handful of hours ago, that was a very cheering thought.
EPILOGUE
A shower, a change of clothes, and a stiff drink had done wonders for the Chairman’s equilibrium, and he felt like himself once more. Fury still roiled in his gut: fury that he’d let a pair of teenage do-gooders outmaneuver him, fury that his own son was so completely out of his control, fury that he’d had to set his plans back by weeks, if not months, to keep those idealistic idiots from ruining everything.
The Chairman took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on pushing that pulsing fury back down. Nothing good ever came from explosions of temper, and he’d made a long and storied career out of maintaining his calm when others around him cracked. Now was not the time to allow emotion to get the best of him. His will was more powerful than his rage.
Steadied, the Chairman made his way down the hall of the Fortress’s basement, telling himself not to think about the carnage that was even now being cleaned up by security forces on the level below. At the end of the hall were the three labs that held Replication units. The Chairman stopped in front of the first one and discovered that his palms were sweating. He was confident Thea had understood what needed to be done, had understood the message he had been trying to give her when he typed in his passcode outside her door. He had typed “play dead” instead of the complex string of numbers and symbols that was his real passcode. Then he’d given her as much extra time as he could, pretending she was preventing him from entering her room.
Nerves still buzzing with apprehension, the Chairman pushed the door open.
A lab tech was hovering over the Replication unit, holding the coffinlike lid open while he inspected the contents. At the sound of the door opening behind him, the tech gently set the lid down and turned around.
“How is she?” the Chairman asked, pleased that his voice sounded as calm and steady as ever. The fate of his entire state might rest on the tech’s answer, but you would never know it from the Chairman’s expression or manner.
“All of her biological components appear to have been successfully Replicated,” the tech answered. “She will have to regrow some of her connective tissue, and of course we won’t know for certain that the procedure was successful until she has been reconnected with her hardware. But overall, I’m hopeful that she will make a full recovery.”
The Chairman’s knees felt weak with relief. Thea had understood, had managed to start the process for her own Replication during the time he had stalled.
“We will begin the rebuilding process at once,” the Chairman said.
“Of course, sir,” the tech said, then took the hint and left the room.
The Chairman stepped closer to the unit that held Thea’s biological heart and soul, resting his hand on the lid. “I’ll have you back to yourself in no time,” he promised her, though he doubted she could hear him in the state she was in. “One way or another, I’ll find those recordings, and I’ll destroy them. Then I’ll make a present to you of Nadia Lake and this obviously defective Replica of my son.”
For all the times the Chairman had decried Nate’s lack of responsibility and his reckless behavior, he realized now that he was much better off having a son who didn’t much care about business or politics. A son who insisted on sticking his nose where it didn’t belong was a decided inconvenience.
He stroked the lid of the Replication unit as if he were petting a dog. Thea wasn’t a human, but she did have her own thoughts and feelings, and he imagined today’s events had been traumatic for her. He wished there were a way he could comfort her, but all he could do was put her back together and then do whatever was necessary to protect her in the future.
“You’ll be back soon,” he murmured, giving the lid another pat.
Then he left the room, sending the tech back in to care for her. It was time he appoint a new chief of security, one who was just as cunning and ruthless as Dirk Mosely. One who could ferret out the illicit recordings Nadia Lake was hiding. And one who would not hesitate to do whatever was necessary for the good of Paxco.
He predicted it would take approximately one month.
About one week to get Thea up and running again. Another week or so for Thea to scour the net to find the data and destroy it, assuming the new chief of security hadn’t already found it by then. And one more week to find the perfect opportunity to make both Nadia and Nate disappear. The Chairman would watch with pleasure as Thea took them apart one by one. Then he would have her animate another Replica of Nate, one that knew nothing about all that had happened. One who was once again a ne’er-do-well playboy who would stay out of his father’s business.
Everything was going to go back to normal. It was only a matter of time.
Acknowledgments
First of all, I’d like to thank my editor, Melissa Frain, for helping me make this a better book. Your excellent editorial feedback is almost enough to make me forgive the little prank you pulled on me when we first sat down in person to talk about the book. Thank you also for being such a great champion. I am grateful to have you in my court. My thanks, as always, to my fabulous agent, Miriam Kriss, who, based on her ability to encourage me when I’m at my lowest and her ability to remain cool under fire, must have been a hostage negotiator in a past life. And last but not least, my thanks to my husband, Dan, who has been the first reader and first editor for every single book I’ve published. Don’t think I don’t know how lucky I am to have you!
About the Author
JENNA BLACK is your typical writer. Which means she’s an “experience junkie.” She got her B.A. in physical anthropology and French from Duke University. Once upon a time, she dreamed she would be the next Jane Goodall, camping in the bush, making fabulous discoveries about primate behavior. Then, during her senior year at Duke, she did some actual research in the field and made this shocking discovery: primates spend something like 80 percent of their time doing such exciting things as sleeping and eating. Concluding that this discovery was her life’s work in the field of primatology, she then moved on to such varied pastimes as grooming dogs and writing technical documentation. She is now a full-time writer and lives in North Carolina with her husband.
www.jennablack.com
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