by Scott Rhine
Stu shrugged. “Shucks. I’m just a farmer who flies part time. You’d have to ask Dr. Lena about my memory. I have no one my age to compare against.”
“Excellent,” she replied. He’s a quick study.
“Seems too easy,” he said.
“A lot of military and scientific organizations want to question you, so they will likely bring in several independent experts to confirm everything you say. Then they’ll pull you back in after every testimony for more questions. That’s why you have your own waiting room. Together, we’ll lead them by the nose.”
“Right. What time is lunch?”
She cocked her head. “You don’t seem to be taking this seriously.”
Stu recited the six expert names and fields, Onesemo among them, without looking at the list. “But I don’t know why a plague expert from the US Army would be useful.”
“Mira Hollis found him. He started at Fortune Enterprises but works finding cures for genetically altered diseases. He’s one of the few men with clearance to examine your DNA.”
“Why is my DNA so classified? Even my mouth swab was handled like uranium.”
“The decontamination pods on your ship performed unsanctioned human modifications.”
“To save lives.”
“For which I am grateful, but there are strict international rules against spreading untested genetically modified plants, animals, and diseases. I have a two-year safety process to implement any splice I propose.”
“So until Toby’s notes and processes are carefully examined, you’re going to treat me like mutant Ebola capable of wiping out all life on this planet,” Stu summarized.
She smiled. “If you use the keywords on this paper, the search will narrow to the expert we want. The art is to direct them without their being aware that the choice is rigged. It’s kind of like search-engine optimization.”
He gazed at her with disconcerting admiration. “I bet you never lose.”
“It’s rare, but it happens.” Sometimes just having me on the team can induce the opposition to settle out of court. “If you get stuck, remind the jury that this whole exercise is about finding the truth.”
A clerk knocked on the door. “They’re ready for Mr. Llewellyn.”
“Could we have pizza for lunch? I’ve never had it before, and it’s the one thing my mom missed most on Sanctuary, aside from her family.”
“Sure. For what we’re charging an hour for defense, we can afford to give the condemned man a decent meal.”
“You’re the best!” he replied, gripping her in a brief hug.
That one compliment made her feel better than any teacher’s praise had. At the same time, her gut twisted when she realized she would use that trust to betray him.
****
At three in the afternoon, the jury recessed. Laura scanned the jurors through the open doors. Several of the women wanted to take Stu home with them. The last one was in full-blown lust. No one was overtly adversarial except the frustrated prosecutor. Even the bailiff waved good-bye jovially. Way to work the room, Llewellyn.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you over dinner. We’re done for the day.”
Laura raised her eyebrows. “Already?”
“They have to fly in witnesses for tomorrow. Let’s go. I want to see more of the city.”
She shook her head. “Too dangerous. We have the waiting room until five. Why don’t we eat in there?” He seemed reluctant, so she added, “I ordered three types of pizza from three different restaurants so you could sample to your heart’s content.”
“You silver-tongued vixen,” Stu said with a grin. “You win.”
Laura sent the rest of the team home except for a few guards and Onesemo. No sense costing the company too much in billable hours. Once they were nestled into the bug-proof room, Stu fetched a plate and began filling it like a kid in a candy story.
“What’s this yellow triangle?” Stu asked.
“Pineapple—from Hawaii. It’s sweet.”
He popped a chunk into his mouth and made a show of moaning with pleasure. “Tongue-gasm.”
“What?” she asked, puzzled by the coarse humor.
“Dunno. It’s something my dad always said when something tasted really good.” He eased the slice into his mouth, point first, and chewed slowly. “Oh yes.”
She sat down, crossed her legs to give him a nice view, and picked at her own leftover cheese bread. “Stop teasing me and talk.”
His head swiveled, and he stopped chewing when he saw how high her slitted skirt rode up. Nervous, he grabbed a cloth napkin and handed it to her. “Here. You don’t want to spill anything on your nice … clothes.”
A gentleman? She tucked the napkin into the top of her silk shirt, managing to lower the neckline a little more. “The proceedings?”
He cleared his throat and slid his chair to the side of the table opposite her. “Sure. We convinced them beyond a doubt that I was a male multi-talent, not a surgically-altered woman or something. I helped seal the deal with a demonstration.”
“What sort of demonstration?” she asked uneasily. Did he strip for them?
“I juggled for them blindfolded.”
Laura giggled. “You’re joking.”
“Nah. It shows my mastery of curved geometry and extra senses.” He picked up three rolls from one of the baskets and held out his own napkin. “Go ahead. Blindfold me, and I’ll show you how good I am with my hands.”
Her body tingled, probably because of his Page talent. It had that effect on women, in order to convince them that what this man had to say was vital for species survival. This explains why his father had over a hundred known conquests, but Stu doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it. “I believe you. Wh-what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”
“They’re bringing in the people to determine if I’m the biological child of my parents. A waste of time,” he said, shoveling in a meat-laden slice.
Because I hinted you might not be.
Stu continued when his mouth was empty. “I actually had to testify that my mother was a virgin before the shuttle test. The UN flight surgeon’s report had to confirm the claim. I told them she waited till she got married.”
“Actually, her early pregnancy caused quite a stir among her fans in Brazil.”
“Fans?”
“She started a charity to help educate women and raise them out of poverty. She’s a national hero. Even I donated to the STEM Foundation.” Or will by the end of the day. Not that they need my contribution with their billions.
“Oh. I knew you were one of the good guys. The prosecutor tried to paint Mom as some kind of harlot, but I explained that she pair-bonded with Dad to save the ship, his sight, and his life. He was suicidal about being unable to pilot anymore.”
Laura squashed a dozen snide retorts, stood, and kissed him on the forehead. “She sounds brave.”
“She just loved him enough to take the risk. I want that someday.” Through her Empathy talent, she could feel his sincerity. More importantly, she could feel his heat as he stared at her. Within minutes, she could have sex with him right there on the table. “That kind of marriage, I mean.” He guzzled a glass of ice water. “Sorry, spicy. Whew! Thank you for broadening my food horizons. You’ve been a wonderful hostess and guide. I’ll always remember you for this dinner.”
The hormonal feedback made her flush. “You should get to the corporate apartments. We have one hermetically sealed and germfree.”
“Are you coming? We could ride in the same car. I’d even let you have the window seat.”
“I’d better not.” If we spend much longer together, I’ll have your sample, and Mori will hand you over to the feds tomorrow. Worse, I’ll never find out about Antarctic Tern. But the offer was tempting. “I … need to pin down an expert. I could be up till all hours.”
“I hope he gives you what you need,” he said genuinely.
In parting, he kissed her hand with such intim
acy that she imagined him kissing her thighs the same way.
Chapter 12 – Beautiful Lies
Around four in the morning, when Laura returned to the LA apartment, her mother was staring at an on-line shopping screen. These things soothed her. Then again, so does the screen saver. Even though Laura held her shoes in her hand, Kaguya snapped awake the moment her daughter passed within seven meters. “What took you so long?”
Laura rolled her eyes. “I paid a visit to our dashing prosecutor and milked him for some strategy hints.”
“All night?” Kaguya complained.
“I can’t stun them with a touch the way you can. I had to use the special perfume and wait until he fell asleep afterward to use his computer.”
“Dangerous. You might get caught and cause a mistrial, or whatever it’s called.”
“I paid the rent for Enrico, a male stripper in the same apartment building. I made sure the media drones saw us kissing. I grabbed his butt for effect.”
“Wait, you rented him or his apartment?”
“Potayto, potahto. I used his shower to eliminate the perfume, and he threw in the rest for free.”
Her mother smirked. “Llewellyn stirred up some unexpected emotions?”
“I needed to get rid of my excess hormones if I want to think with a clear head tomorrow.”
“What did you find out about your own history?”
Laura chose her words carefully, unsure what would push her mother’s fragile psyche over the edge. “Did my father … force you to do something on his last visit?”
“Never. He woke something in me. He visited me more than my own family during the dark times.”
“He was married.”
“He also didn’t want me to be stuck in a trance for decades without him. He left a vial for me as a gift, and you were born on Christmas.”
“Artificial insemination?”
“Conrad would never cheat on his wife, even though his marriage was a farce.”
“How so?”
Kaguya crossed her arms in front of her newest kimono. “He had been selected to command the shuttle trip to the artifact. No one could turn that down. We trained our entire lives for it. When I was disqualified, he had to pair with one of the other crew members. Those were the mission rules.” Her voice had a spun-sugar fantasy edge to it. She had obviously told herself this tale many times. “He was forced to choose Mira because she had most of my talents and the key team members for the mission.”
Laura probed the fantasy gingerly. “Why were you disqualified?”
Her mother averted her eyes. “Your grandfather made me commit a little harmless corporate espionage. Mira’s friends on the faculty found out and blackmailed me into leaving the academy.” Kaguya began to twist the belt on her kimono like a neck.
Pulling the loose strap out of her mother’s hand, Laura changed the subject. “I couldn’t find the files for my modifications, but the fertility doctor supervised a follow-on, Project Legion.” Laura paused, searching for a delicate way to state this. “Based on the notes, the doctor must have harvested the rest of your eggs after my birth to prevent a repeat performance.”
“I got to keep you. It was worth the trade,” Kaguya said, touching the back of Laura’s hand affectionately.
Laura made a fist. “That bastard used them all in experiments. Fifty potential brothers and sisters, and he played dice with their lives. Grandfather had them do something to the eggs to make all of them come up male.” He was trying to mass-produce for some genetic trait. A woman could only supply a limited number of eggs—the ones she was born with. A man could produce millions of sperm a day.
Kaguya covered her mouth. “One in twenty children should have survived.”
Holding her mother tight, she whispered, “Only one of the batch made it to adulthood, a fluke. I’m so sorry. All the others died.” Some of them in slow and painful ways, all for the gods of science and profit.
“I have another child? You have a brother?”
“Sort of. He was marked defective.” Laura swallowed hard. “He’s six centimeters taller than our father as a result of XYY syndrome. They worry about his … aggressiveness. Though they won’t let him study math because of the Quantum Computing, he spends most of his time reading.”
“Conrad was so tall they had to give him special permission to enter the space program. This boy must be a giant.”
“The boy’s nickname is Monty. It’s French for mountain, and The Count of Monte Cristo is his favorite book. His IQ is high enough that he’s escaped custody twice.” Laura could feel the bittersweet shine of her mother’s pride. “They’ve moved him to the Antarctic observatory, on the part that hasn’t melted yet. Monty likes the sled dogs.”
Kaguya said, “Don’t tell anyone about this. If your grandparents find out, they’ll move him again. They probably want to use him as a bargaining chip with Conrad.”
Laura urged her mother to sit. “I have an important question.”
“You can ask me anything, dearest Tsukiko.”
“Why did you try to fry my father’s brain?”
Kaguya frowned, but she didn’t crumble. “It was an accident. Your grandfather wanted to eliminate Daniel Fortune. I arranged that without killing a single human being. When I put Fortune into a coma, Conrad experienced backlash through the collective link. He always was sensitive. Clearly, he forgave me.” She began retelling the story of how the great Conrad visited her in the institution.
Kissing her mother on the forehead, Laura said, “I have to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Glancing at the wall screen, she asked, “Did you buy anything interesting tonight?”
“Camping gear and a spacesuit for you—for when your father returns for us. Since you’re going to be free, you can come, too. As soon as the UN absolves Conrad, we can be a family.”
****
The next day of court, Laura monitored several aspects of the proceedings and napped in the waiting room during the slow periods. She wore a red pantsuit to appear more modest. She woke at one point to find Stu covering her with his jacket. No one but her mother had ever treated her so tenderly.
At noon Tuesday, Stewart returned from a session to eat lunch. Once in the room with her, he removed his surgical mask. “Your disease expert bored the stuffing out of everyone.”
She nodded. “We could tell by the amount of Internet surfing going on inside while he lectured. Several people had to look up the concept of a naïve immune system.”
“Yeah. The prosecutor wrote a one-line summary on the whiteboard. No herpes or flu virus means I was either raised in a sterile lab or in space.”
“I assume he was referring to chicken pox.”
“Sure. What else would he mean?”
“Never mind. Did they believe him?” Laura asked.
“They may not have understood him. I explained how Sanctuary scrubbed all viruses from my folks before they entered the biosphere.”
With awe in her voice, Laura asked, “You’ve never been sick?”
“Just once. When the prosecutor asked me to prove my parentage in layman’s terms, I pointed them to the tape of my reaction to those painkillers on the last court-hearing recording. Mom’s allergy was pretty well known.” He held up a Medic-Alert bracelet. “Lena brought this for me before she testified again.”
“About?”
“Me being from off-planet.”
“We’re making great progress,” she said, clasping his hand.
He closed his eyes to savor her touch. “Maybe we could eat lunch outside. It’s a beautiful day.”
She shook her head. “Too many media bots crowding around. They’re desperate for anything to report about this case, but you can’t repeat anything you’ve learned from the jury proceedings.”
“What surprises do you have in store for me today?”
“Kobe steak with tempura.” She showed him a tray with artfully arranged, battered-and-fried vegetables. The shredded carrots resembled frost-cove
red trees.
“Gorgeous, as usual,” he said, glancing up into her face.
She gazed deep into his eyes, a common seduction technique. “Wait until you try a mouthful of this beef. It’s been pampered its whole life, massaged, and then bathed in butter. It will melt in your mouth as it willingly yields up its flavor to you.”
“Oo. Could you cut that for me?” Stu asked. “I promised I wouldn’t hold any weapons while I’m in custody.”
Gladly, Laura fed him the steak as he looked heavenward in bliss. “You have got to try some of this,” he insisted.
“This is my lunch. My mother brought it for me.”
“Then why aren’t you shaped like a Sumo wrestler?” he asked.
“Vigorous exercise,” she replied.
“You should have some, at least half. I feel guilty.”
With her fingers, she dipped a cauliflower into thin tempura sauce. “This will cleanse your palette so you can experience the next bite with the same enjoyment.”
He licked the sauce from her lingering fingers. “Your mom has to be the best cook ever.”
Doesn’t he know about takeout food? She blurted the next words automatically. “Would you like to tell her that in person?”
Stu wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Me meet your mother? I’d be honored.”
“I’ll arrange a late meal tonight. Eight?”
“I’m easy.” He offered her a piece of the exquisite steak. “Your turn.”
Laura accepted the bite. “When the grand jury is over, is there anywhere special you’d like to go? Anything you’d like to see?”
Leaning close to her, Stu said, “Mo asked the same thing, but I was too embarrassed to tell him. I learned from my folks that the unicorn in the Bible is probably based on the African Black Rhino. I’d like to see one of those in the wild.”
“Maybe we’ll go on a photographic safari together.” His unicorns are extinct, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
The meal was sweet and over too soon.
Laura hummed to herself the rest of the afternoon and thought about what touring an alien biosphere would be like … on his arm. When she realized what she was doing, she muttered, “God, I’m turning into my mother.”
