“You don’t think the new samples were a distraction, though?”
Matthew frowned. “I guess that could be true.”
“Do you think it’s possible that they were deliberately tampered with to lead you down an alternate, decoy path?”
“That would be a hell of a ploy.”
“So I take it you haven’t run any tests on the samples yet.”
For the first time since the bombing, Matthew realized that he didn’t actually know where the samples were. “No. I, uh, don’t exactly have access to them right now.”
“I know they shut down the offices, but I think you should still be able to access the labs for a matter like this.”
“That’s not quite what I mean,” he said. “Someone else has the samples right now.”
“Sorry?”
“I was afraid the whole building would go up and I figured that the samples would provide some knowledge we could use to save lives or something. Stupid, I know, but I went back in the building to retrieve them with a coworker. Jacqueline Harper. She has them now, I believe.”
“That’s not exactly legal. You do realize that, right?”
Matthew massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. “I really didn’t have time to consider that.”
“Obviously, I’m not about to report you. In any case, I think we should probably get those samples back.”
Matthew took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Of course. I want to make sure we get them back from her.”
“I understand you have a lot on your plate, and I certainly don’t want to get in the way of what you’re dealing with right now,” Preston said. “I wouldn’t be ready to embark on any kind of an adventure if my husband or son were in the hospital.”
Matthew rubbed Audrey’s hand. Even when she was awake, her fingers were uncomfortably cold. She had apologized for her icy fingers one night shortly after they’d first met, as they walked along the decorated windows of the storefronts and restaurants in the downtown pedestrian mall. He had grasped her hand tighter, enjoying the small gesture of physical intimacy as they walked hand in hand between the other students milling about that evening.
He reached out to Audrey’s bandaged face and brushed away a lock of her hair. “We should retrieve the samples tonight. The sooner I’m done with this mess, the better.”
“Thank you, Matthew. I believe we’ll have the opportunity to truly save some lives and get to the bottom of this.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Me, too,” Preston said. “Shall I pick you up?”
***
Minutes later, Preston walked in through the rotating doors of the hospital entrance. Matthew was sitting in one of the old battered chairs that had been brought into the lobby atrium to accommodate the influx of worried families, extra security personnel, and camping journalists. Preston squeezed behind a portly man yelling at a woman at the visitors’ desk. He shot Matthew a concerned look.
His thoughts lingered on the hospital room where Audrey still lay. He had left a simple note on the table beside her bed reading, “I’m sorry. I love you.” He could do nothing more substantial, nor anything more meaningful, and resigned himself to the fact that he would probably be back before she awoke anyway.
When Preston reached Matthew, he offered his hand. “How are you?”
“I haven’t really had time to think about it.”
Preston nodded. “Are you ready? I’m hoping this doesn’t take long. Again, I’m really sorry to bring you back into this mess, but as you know, I don’t really have access to the LyfeGen building anymore and—”
“Yes, I understand. Like I said before, I want to be done with this as soon as possible.”
Preston offered a weak smile, barely lifting the corners of his mouth. “Me, too. I can’t believe everything that’s happened.”
Matthew shrugged and rubbed at his eyes. He glanced at a coffee machine in the vending station at the corner of the atrium. In an instant, a desire to simply crawl back into his bed, under his comforter, overcame him. All of this might just be a bad dream. He scolded himself for entertaining such childish thoughts, considering the selfishness of his own exhaustion. The desire for sleep was nothing compared to the loss and the pain that had been inflicted on others, including Audrey, by the bombing. “Let’s go see if we can’t find something out about the fuckers who did this.”
North St. Clair Street buzzed with throngs of people. Police cars wound between the amassed pedestrians. Reporters, misguided protesters, and curious onlookers all clogged the roadway and the sidewalks. Streetlights illuminated faces filled with worry and anger, and voices rose up against the screams of a departing ambulance with sirens blaring.
Matthew clenched his fists. He kept his head down and ignored the crowds. Focusing on the tail of Preston’s black coat, he followed the man past the security line and back into the crowds.
“Preston Carter! Who did you visit? Where are you headed?”
A reporter blocked their exit.
“I have nothing to say to you.” Preston waved the man off.
Still, the reporter stepped in front of him. “Can you just let us know what you think about today’s events?”
“Leave me and the rest of these people alone.”
Preston pushed past the man. The reporter stumbled back slightly and Matthew quickened his pace. He barged through people side by side with Preston to the other side of the street.
“There’s my car.” Preston pointed. He pressed a couple of commands on the comm card and the car’s headlights and interior lights lit up. They opened the doors and squeezed into the car.
The reporter’s recognition of the former CEO caused a stir amongst the other news streamers and journalists in the crowd. Their voices penetrated the car’s windows and doors as hands slapped against the car’s exterior.
“Who are you with?”
“Why were you at the hospital?”
“Were you visiting a former employee? Family? A friend?”
“Did you lose someone today?”
Preston took a deep breath and shared a pained look with Matthew. With a quick selection on the car’s touchscreen, the windows developed a dark tint that blocked the clamoring mob from seeing into the car. This did nothing to convince the curious onlookers and the reporters to give up.
“I suppose we should visit Jacqueline then, right?”
Matthew nodded, silent.
“This is rather embarrassing, but I have no idea where we’re going. I suppose I should have taken care of that before we leaped into these shark-infested waters.”
“That’s okay,” Matthew said. “I’ve got the address.”
Preston’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? Well, that’s helpful.”
Matthew entered the address into the blinking touchscreen’s destination box. The car’s engine whirred, but the vehicle remained still. “Why aren’t we moving?”
“Too many people, I suppose,” Preston said. “You know how careful these autodrive programs are.”
Matthew impatiently tapped his fingers on the car’s dashboard, leaning forward toward the windshield, willing the car to move. “Give me the manual driving controls.”
“What?”
“I’ll get us out of here.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Matthew scowled. “Do you want to camp here all night listening to all these assholes, or do you want to get this shit done?”
Preston held up his hands, relenting. “Fine, fine. Just get us to Jacqueline Harper’s place alive, find those samples, and I’ll be thankful.”
“Couldn’t have picked a better night for this, could you?” Matthew forced a sarcastic chuckle.
“Not much of a choice, I’m afraid. While the iron’s hot, we need to strike.” Preston typed in a couple of quick override commands. “All right, switch seats?”
They climbed awkwardly over the center console, squeezing themselves
over each other and into the appropriate seats.
Preston immediately clicked his safety belt into place.
Matthew looked at him and smirked. “I don’t blame you.”
He pressed on the gas. The electric engine whined. He laid on the horn, its tinny, weak voice squealing into the uproar of the crowd. Slowly, he inched the car forward. A couple of people in front of the car yelped in surprise.
Matthew didn’t stop the car when it bumped into the legs of a particularly persistent man attempting to provide a live video feed of the events to his news stream. The man dropped his camera in surprise and bent to retrieve it. Matthew laid on the horn again, pumping the gas pedal to force the car forward.
The crowd parted in the confusion and he propelled the vehicle headlong into the opening. Preston’s hand tightened around the handle of the passenger-side door handle and his jaw clenched tightly. The gap finally opened up into the empty street ahead. Matthew slammed down on the gas and the front wheels of the car lost their grip for a moment on the slick asphalt, tires screeching. The car shot forward and a devious grin spread across Matthew’s face.
“Do you want me to put the automatic driver on again?”
Matthew shook his head. “No. Autodrive obeys the speed limit.”
“We might get a ticket.”
Matthew shot Preston a questioning look.
“Fair enough. You keep driving.”
Matthew pulled his comm card out of his pants pocket, telling it to place a call to Jacqueline Harper’s personal number.
A shaky voice answered. “Matthew?”
“Hi, Jacqueline. How are you doing?” He sounded more venomous than concerned, but he hardly gave it a second thought as he sped through a yellow light turning red.
“I’m okay,” she said, her voice worried. “How are you? What about—what about Audrey?”
“I’m fine, but Audrey’s hurt. The doctors said she’ll be better, though. She’s at Northwestern now.”
“Okay, good.”
“I’m coming over to pick up the samples.”
“Right now? Why? Why don’t I just bring them back in when LyfeGen’s open and safe again?”
“I have a feeling that the methane scare had more to do with maximizing bomb casualties than a building malfunction.”
Jacqueline’s voice sounded weak. “Oh.”
“You sound upset. Is everything okay there?”
“Yes—I mean, kind of. I’m just shook up, I suppose.”
“Well, I’m coming over,” Matthew said. “I want to go over those samples tonight. I can run them before morning, confirm how they were tampered with, and hopefully that will lead us to exactly where in the manufacturing process these genes were added. I’m betting that will lead us right to whoever is responsible.”
“You really think somebody at LyfeGen would do this?”
“Absolutely.” Matthew took a sharp corner. The tires’ muffled screeches only made Preston grip the door handle tighter. “Someone tampered with the methane system on the day of our largest press conference, and someone prepared a bomb just in time for all of this. Maybe you’re right: the Sustain update sabotages could be entirely separate from all of today’s shit. But either way, there’s someone at LyfeGen responsible for both of these things. And I have a strong suspicion that whoever knows about the updates also knows about why today happened.”
“You need to rest, Matthew. Take the night off.”
“Screw that.” His voice rose in anger. “I can’t do that until this is stopped. We spent too long twiddling our fingers and taking our sweet time in the lab. If we had figured this out sooner, there wouldn’t have been a bomb.”
“You can’t know that,” Jacqueline said. “Please, you’re scaring me.”
Besides the single day she had broached the subject of losing her son, Matthew had never witnessed timidity in Jacqueline. More often than not, she epitomized confidence and charisma. Now she sounded weak and legitimately frightened.
“We won’t know anything unless I have those samples.”
“Not tonight, please. Not tonight. I just want to—I don’t know—I just want to be alone.”
“I’m not planning on staying. I’ll be in and out.”
For a moment, Jacqueline didn’t respond. Her labored breathing at the other end of the line grew silent. “No. Do not come over.”
Matthew gritted his teeth as he wove between a rumbling delivery truck and a meandering taxi, barely clearing both vehicles with only inches to spare. “You can’t stop me.”
“I’m not at home.”
“Where are you, then?”
“It doesn’t matter. Go home, Matthew. Or go back to your wife. She’s the one you want, anyway.”
“Jacqueline!” Matthew yelled in frustration as the line went dead and his comm card projected a red X symbol showing the call had ended.
“What did she mean?” Preston’s eyes were glued to the street in front of them.
Matthew took another sharp turn, cutting off a silver passenger car. It slammed to a stop behind them, and a quick flash of lights said that the auto-driver of the other car had photographed the reckless driving and would likely be reporting it to the authorities.
“I don’t know,” Matthew finally said. “But I think she’s lying.”
“About what?”
Matthew weaved between a crawl of cars and slowed to a stop in the front carport of an apartment building. “Let’s find out.”
“This is her place?”
He nodded and stepped out of the car. He hoped that Jacqueline still had him on her accepted visitors list as he approached the secured entrance. Fortunately, the door slid open for him and he motioned for Preston to hurry.
When they arrived at her apartment door, Matthew knocked wildly. He pressed his ear against it, but no sounds were audible from within. He placed another call. She didn’t answer. He paced impatiently in front of the door. Preston watched, his arms crossed.
Again, Matthew called. On the third try, Jacqueline picked up.
“Stop,” she said. “Go home. This doesn’t concern you.”
Before he could say anything else, the call went dead. He tried three more times but Jacqueline refused to pick up.
“Something’s wrong.” Matthew combed his fingers through his hair. He rubbed the back of his neck as he paced.
“Where do you think she might be?”
“I really have no idea. I think we should go in. I gave her a chance to answer, but we can’t stall this any longer.”
“Force our way in? Do you think it’s that dire?”
Matthew laughed, shaking his head. “I admire your enthusiasm. If anyone asked me, I’d say you still deserve to be our CEO.” He moved in front of Preston, and pressed his thumb on Jacqueline’s door. The lock clicked open.
“You have access to her apartment? How—oh.”
Matthew’s cheeks warmed and turned red. He didn’t look at Preston, but ducked through the doorway and turned on the lights. The stainless-steel refrigerator humming in the kitchen and the soft whisper of air through the ventilation ducts were the only sounds in the apartment. Hardwood floorboards creaked as Matthew walked toward the living room. Again, he flipped on the lights, but found no trace of Jacqueline anywhere. He turned on her computer and watched the 3D images light up and dance before him. A sharp set of floating blue, red, and yellow squares gave away to a password prompt. He tried to guess the password, but the holo told him each guess was incorrect.
His comm card lit up after he closed the holo. A brief, pointed message glared across the card: “Get out of my apartment.”
He shot Jacqueline back a message: “What’s going on?”
“I’ll set the alarms off. The police will be on their way.”
“Why?”
But she never answered.
“We should be quick,” Matthew said.
Preston nodded, and looked around the empty living room and across the kitchen counters. “
What are we looking for?”
“I took the samples out in a portable incubator and a liquid nitrogen transport tank. I’ll check the bedroom. You want to look in her office?” Matthew pointed to a door ajar near the other side of the kitchen and Preston hurried off in that direction.
Jacqueline had never blown Matthew off in such an indignant manner. When he had tried to pry into her personal life or her past, she had simply changed the flow of conversation or laughed, making a joke of his inquisitiveness. Then again, he had never tried to force his way into her apartment before.
He prowled around the bedroom. Peering under the familiar bed, he looked for the samples and anything that might be vaguely amiss. Like her living room, the bulk of the bedroom was clean and sparsely decorated. A lone holoimage of a rotating rose glowed quietly on the wall above the bed. Matthew stood up on the bed and stared, eyes level with the image. He removed the frame from the wall, hoping a hidden safe would be uncovered. Finding nothing, he replaced the frame and moved on to tearing into the contents of Jacqueline’s bathroom. Again, he found nothing.
Nor did he find anything in her linen closet. He moved to the clothes closet, desperate to find something, anything that would pinpoint Jacqueline’s whereabouts or provide a hiding place for the tissue samples.
“Matthew!” Preston’s voice carried from the office, echoing off the bedroom walls and into the walk-in closet, now strewn with piles of Jacqueline’s garments and belongings. “Matthew!”
Dropping an empty shoebox, Matthew sprinted out into the living room.
Grinning broadly, Preston showed him a manual with an unfamiliar company logo. “Jacqueline worked for ProlifiTEC, right?”
“She was part owner, I think.”
“Then I think I know where she is.”
Chapter 41
Audrey Cook
December 4, 2063
Struggling to open her eyes, Audrey tried to lift an arm to rub at her face. Her arms were, at the same time, heavy and weak. She dropped them and blinked in an attempt to clear the grogginess. She could breathe, but the presence of a foreign object in her nostrils prevented her from inhaling naturally. She resisted the urge to sneeze.
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