Yordanius absorbed the information, thought about it for a moment. “Yes, chimerism is possible, though I did not see any evidence of it when Riggio was under my control.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, however, he’s one of the lab-children who seems to have slipped through the cracks. We were focused on other more promising genetic combinations—seeking a peaceful human, without warlike tendencies—and as a result we don’t have a complete medical portfolio on him.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He looked ashamed. “We should have done more extensive medical and genetic analyses on him before releasing him into society. I suspect that there are things about his particular genetic combination that I should have noticed earlier, indicators that explain why he’s violent. I’m not happy that he’s a killer. He’s a mistake, and I regret it.”
“A big mistake.”
Yordanius sighed. “I suppose such a reversal has to be accepted as part of the research I was doing, to make such great discoveries. Agent Jantz, even though you disagree with my racial experiments, you must have heard what I was trying to do, how I was trying end war. I wanted to put a permanent end to it.”
Jantz shook her head in dismay. “I’ve heard that, yes, but I never understood why you thought you had the right to go off on your own. It’s proven to be dangerous.”
Dr. Yordanius scowled. “I was running things essentially by myself, with the best lab assistants I could come up with, all grown in my laboratory and trained by me, but they didn’t always comprehend the complexities of my research and experiments.” He added quickly, “Of course, I’m not looking for an excuse. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, but I’d like to do whatever I can to rectify it.”
Jantz heard the boarding announcement for her flight.
Without another word, she rose to her feet and activated the ever-present exosuit, which had been with her for so long that it almost seemed like part of her body. A pale orange glow went on, surrounding her crippled legs with energy beams, enabling her to walk toward the entrance tunnel, followed by the doctor and the guards....
CHAPTER 35
Wearing new clothes and shoes she had purchased earlier this afternoon, Tatsy went to the nearest transit station to hire an aircab. From having access to all of Riggio’s thoughts, and hearing a conversation he’d had with Meredith, Tatsy knew she was scheduled to inspect a construction site southeast of Seattle tomorrow morning at nine-thirty. It was one of the ambitious projects of her client Sam Howe, a new resort he was calling Sun Under.
Reportedly it would not be ready until the end of next year, and would be a one-of-a-kind subterranean resort with numerous swimming pools, and high overhead, an artificial sun attached to the ceiling of an immense cavern. It would also include world-class hotel accommodations, gourmet restaurants and an elite shopping village, featuring top fashion stores. She’d been thinking about the great heights involved in the project, having seen images of catwalks just beneath the ceiling and along the sides of the cavern. She’d always had a strange and unexplained fear of heights, and recalled being afraid of Montaña Rusa, the roller coaster ride on the moonlet of Saturn, when she gave Riggio a headache, trying to protest his decision to ride it.
Tatsy didn’t like being afraid of anything, and vowed to overcome her foolish fear of heights. She convinced herself it was just a matter of getting used to them, and decided to spend time on the high catwalks before Meredith ever arrived. Tatsy would find an excuse to be up there, perhaps putting on a hardhat and blending in with others, or some other ruse. She liked to improvise based upon whatever was at hand; she was good at it. For one thing, she’d commanded Riggio to murder dozens of women with random objects that were available... a screwdriver, a pair of scissors, a kitchen knife, belts or cords for strangulation, or even a clock for blunt-force impact.
Now this would be another improvisation, rather like a musical performance without any written music, just coming up with whatever occurred to her, whatever her instincts told her to do. It would be challenging, but fun. It would make her stronger.
Perhaps she could lure Meredith up to the highest walkway and push her off. That would indeed be spectacular, hearing her scream all the way down, until the gory impact. Determined to not only kill Meredith, but to do it in a memorable way that would cause her most suffering, Tatsy didn’t want her victim to face an ordinary, ho-hum death. She wanted to terrify her, and give her no way of escaping the special justice that was in store for her.
Tatsy understood that there was inherent risk in this. Normally when she did away with someone she liked to do it when there were no witnesses and she had a clear, safe escape path. This time she could not be certain, but she was obsessed with getting rid of that arrogant bitch. Tatsy actually felt stimulated by the heightened danger, and the unknowns that lay ahead. She would come up with a way to do it, and would get away to safety.
Just as Riggio’s body was Tatsy’s now, so too was his mind, and all of his memories. The mental transition had been smooth. The only external problem she’d faced so far with the body was her brother’s black hair. Though long for a man, it was not long enough to style the way she would have preferred. So, after buying the clothes, she’d gone to a hairdresser to get a short but feminine haircut. It looked better than she’d expected, and she’d given the hairdresser a generous tip.
After paying her fare at the aircab ticket booth, she went to the edge of the platform where the flying taxis were lined up on a take-off ramp, waiting for customers. The one to which she’d been assigned (in front of the others) was brightly painted in a stylized evergreen tree design, with blue and yellow stripes and an identification number on the tail. It was nearly sunset now, with shadows beginning to wrap around the buildings of the city.
As Tatsy approached the craft the rear door slid open and she climbed into the rear, where she sat on a comfortable bench seat. A safety harness snapped over her body, and the door closed behind her.
The aircab featured someone’s idea of a joke, but she did not find it humorous. The craft could have all been automated, with no visible operator. But ahead of her was a decidedly retro black metal robot, with a box-shaped head and a proportional, rectangular body. She could not see its legs, but did see the metal arms, which were not rounded, and were instead squared off, so that they looked like construction posts, but made of black metal, and flexible. The ridiculous robot’s tinny computer voice sounded male as it announced where they were going.
“Sun Under, one hundred eighteen air miles southeast of Seattle. Your ETA is forty-seven minutes, sixteen seconds. The facility is not open yet, so are you an employee?”
“Just take me there without any annoying questions,” Tatsy said. She didn’t feel like having a personal conversation with a silly robot. She removed a piece of paper from a pocket, unfolded it and stared at it. It was from the notepad on which she’d written “kill the bitch” over and over. She liked the look of the page, thought she might frame it one day and hang it on the wall... after she completed her mission, of course. She put it back in her pocket.
The robot said nothing more. The aircab sped forward on the ramp and lifted smoothly into the sky, then flew out over the tops of commercial buildings and residential neighborhoods. When it was outside the city limits, the craft accelerated and flew over a tubeway, following the course of the sealed highway. Through the clear roof of the enclosure she saw cars and trucks inside with their headlights on, going in both directions.
Something in motion caught her eye on the right, and she noticed another aircab with the same markings and another robot operator catching up and then keeping pace, perhaps twenty-five yards away. The passenger was a young brunette woman in a business suit. She looked over and waved cheerily at Tatsy. Seeing no reason not to return the courtesy, Tatsy waved back.
At shortly past sunset, the airborne taxis set down on a small field outside of the Sun Under compound. Because of all the construction activity, this was the safest place to land. Th
e field was illuminated by lamp posts that still left much of the compound in shadows. Her robot cabbie told her it was only a short walk to the resort, while pointing to one of two dimly lit pathways.
Tatsy stood with the other passenger, looking up as the aircabs took off and departed.
“You have a lot more bags than I do,” Tatsy said with a smile. She only had a large purse. “Let me help you. Oh, I’m Tatsy Perkins.” She’d made up the surname on the spot, another of her many improvisations. She saw the woman as a potential victim, and knew it was much easier to kill people when they didn’t know it was coming.
“That’s very nice of you,” the woman said. “By the way, I’m Amanda Cosmo.” She was around thirty, with an oval face, small eyes, and stylish medium-length, dark hair. From her expensive leather bags and tailored suit, she appeared to be well-to-do. She pointed to the smaller of two bags, and Tatsy hefted it.
“This is heavy,” she said.
“Can you handle it? if not—”
“Sure. I’ll bet the other one is even heavier.”
“Thank you, and yes, it is quite heavy. I’m a seismic technician from Los Angeles, and I’ll be using specialized equipment to recommend any necessary reinforcements against earthquakes. They’ve already designed the project for seismic safety, but reportedly there have been doubts expressed about structural integrity, so I’m supposed to offer a second opinion. It will not only involve tests, but complex calculations that I have to make. It’s really involved. I’ll also be performing a detailed geological analysis of the area.”
“Sounds exciting.” Tatsy didn’t really feel that way, but a plan was forming in her mind.
As they started to walk, she asked, “And these bags are full of seismic equipment?”
“They are, taking up a lot more room that the clothes.”
“These aircabs have ridiculous robots,” Tatsy said, “and mine told me to take the trail over there.” She pointed. “The one on the left.”
“Thanks. Mine didn’t tell me anything. This is your first time here?”
“Yes. And yours, too?”
Amanda Cosmo said it was, and that she didn’t know anyone at the site. Then she asked, “Why are you here? I don’t mean to be nosy, I was just wondering. Do you work for Sun Under?”
“My husband is in hotel and restaurant management,” Tatsy said, lying. “He’s just accepted a job from the owner, Sam Howe. Tomorrow we’re supposed to move into a small residence on the premises.” She paused. “Our things are being shipped.”
An idea gained traction in the dark and dangerous passages of Tatsy’s mind. Glancing around, she saw a rock just ahead of them, on the side of the trail... it was big but she could lift it. She set the bag down by it. “Just give me a moment, please. I need to catch my breath.”
The other woman set her bag down, and was looking forward. “Can’t see the facility yet,” she said. Looking ahead on the path, she didn’t notice Tatsy picking up the rock.
Tatsy didn’t say anything, just swung the rock as hard as she could and hit her in the back of the head. The woman’s skull made a pleasing, cracking sound. The blow must have killed her instantly, because she didn’t make a sound, except for the small noise she made in falling. Tatsy saw blood gushing from the head wound, and wrapped her own coat around Cosmo’s head, to keep her from bleeding on the clothes Tatsy wanted to steal. The two of them were around the same height, coloring and build.
She dragged the woman off the trail into the shadowy woods, then changed hurriedly into the business suit, which fit well. The shoes did not fit, but the new ones Tatsy had already purchased were fine. After making sure the body was out of sight and covered with evergreen boughs, she returned to the trail. It took a few minutes to find the woman’s identification documents in the luggage, and she was pleased to see that some did not have pictures of the dead woman.
With her brother’s strength, it was easy for Tatsy to carry both bags.
She passed a massive log pile and entered a small city of trailers, job shacks and construction equipment, a rural metropolis populated by laborers—mostly male—in work uniforms and orange safety helmets. It surprised her that there was no security gate or guard. One of the shacks had barriers around it, and was marked “EXPLOSIVES.” Tatsy stared at it for a long moment, imagining how much damage and carnage she could cause if she set those materials off inside Sun Under. But she didn’t need to kill hundreds of people this time; she only needed to make sure she got one, and then make good her escape.
As she walked, she saw a large white and gold dome at the center of the cleared area. People were going in and out of it. Through a glass door she saw several people working inside.
Looking around, she was more interested in a wide dirt ramp that led underground, with dump trucks and other heavy vehicles going up and down on it, and workers walking along the sides. The excavation area looked deep, and was brightly illuminated.
A row of job shacks were on one side, and she made her way to the largest. Leaving the travel cases outside, she entered and found two men in hard-hats, playing cards at a table. “I’m Amanda Cosmo,” she said, “here for the seismology inspection. Folks call me Tatsy.” She smiled. “Don’t ask me why. Just a nickname from my childhood.”
One of the men, who appeared to be Hispanic, pointed toward an open doorway. “Go see Danielson,” he said.
She went in. A red-headed man with freckles and a bald pate sat at a blueprint-smeared desk, with his feet up and his eyes closed. His head dropped, then bounced back up as he caught himself falling asleep. The muscles on his arms were huge.
Tatsy cleared her throat and saw his eyes open, but only partway, before closing again. Then he opened them all the way, looking at her in surprise. Rheumy, bloodshot eyes.
“Mr. Danielson?” she asked.
He sat up straight, and she identified herself again, the false name.
“I heard you were coming,” he said. “I’m the assistant job manager. Will you be needing someone to show you around?”
“Tomorrow. Now I just want to know where I’ll be staying tonight. It’s been a long day, and I’m very tired.”
“Of course.” He moved blueprints out of the way, glanced at a site-screen embedded in his desktop, and said, “Your room is Q-17.” He called through the doorway to one of the other men. “Lupe, show this lady where Q-17 is.”
The man popped his head in, then led her outside. It was just starting to rain, but only a mist. She marveled at the cool, wet sensation on her face.
He picked up the larger of the two cases, and showed her the way across the construction yard. On the way, they passed a big two-story house. The man explained it was for a caretaker who had been hired but was not on duty yet. The house was complete. “It has nine bedrooms.”
“Nine bedrooms?”
“The caretaker has a large family, and Sam’s bringin’ all of ‘em aboard. Two of the sons will be busboys when the village restaurants are complete. Aged sixteen and seventeen. Sam is even providing schooling for the children of several workers.”
Tatsy thought the house design seemed out of place in the rainy Pacific Northwest. With a red tile roof, stucco walls, dark mahogany doors, and wrought iron bars over the windows, she thought it was more suited to Arizona or New Mexico. Then she remembered the theme of Sam Howe’s resort: sunshine all year long.
They reached a one-story modular building and he led her inside, saying it was one of the barracks for workers and guests. The room was utilitarian, but Tatsy found it adequate. Just inside the door, a black raincoat and an orange hardhat hung on wall hooks, apparently for the occupant.
“Would you like me to have a meal sent to you?” he asked, after handing her a key-card. He stood in the doorway.
“That would be nice. What are the menu choices?”
“Well, this ain’t the Ritz, but the menu today is meatloaf, roast herbed chicken, or fish and chips. I’m not sure what the dessert is. If you don’t want
to eat in your room, the cafeteria is two buildings down.” He pointed to the south.
She thought this over for a moment, didn’t want to risk exposure by seeing too many people. “If you could ask someone to send the herbed chicken to me, and whatever the dessert is, along with an herbal tea?”
“No problem.” He smiled.
Half an hour later, the food was delivered by a young man wearing a raincoat. As he stood in the doorway, Tatsy saw it raining hard behind him, and heard the noise of the weather. She tried to pay for the meal, but he said it was gratis, and he would not accept a tip, either.
As she ate slowly at a small table in the room, it struck her how peculiar it was to taste the food in her own body, instead of being a mere spectator, and obtaining nutrients through her fetus being connected to her brother’s blood supply. This was much more enjoyable, making her wish she’d ordered more. She also wondered what had happened to her fetus during the metamorphosis. Had she traded places with Riggio? It was a bizarre thought, but perhaps not when she thought about all the strange things that had already occurred.
When the rain let up, Tatsy went outside, wearing a warm sweater she’d found in one of the suitcases, as well as the raincoat and hardhat that came with the room. She’d found a small flashbeam in one of the pockets of the coat, which she used now to make certain she didn’t trip on anything. The dirt surface was rutted and muddy, with debris and puddles, but she found she was able to see her way in moonlight, the clouds having partially cleared away. She had also brought along a small electronic device from one of the cases. The unit fit easily into a pocket, and contained a full plan-set of the facility.
In addition, she had with her a larger, unusual piece of Cosmo’s equipment that she had no comprehension of, just something to make it look her look like a real seismic inspector. The device was round and thin, like a slice of orange, with an attached wrapping and carrying handle. In the room she’d discovered that when she peered through the center of the unit and pressed buttons on the perimeter, a variety of symbols lit up around the outside of the viewing area. It looked mysterious, complicated, and official. On the outside edge, a plate indicated that it was a Seismic-Scan, model SS-2547.
The Unborn Page 20
