Cyteen

  Denys gave a slight, sad smile, and sighed. The chair creaked as he leaned forward and leaned his elbows on the table. And pushed a button. The bone-deep hum of the Silencer enveloped them, afflicting the nerves and unsettling the stomach. “But the problem is beyond a twenty-year study even if we gave you a full run with a geneset. That’s the crux of it. Ultimately, proving whether you’re right or wrong would take a Gehenna-style run. Twenty generations, not twenty years. We’re just damn shy of planets to hand you. And what do we do with the culture that turns out if you’re wrong? Nuke it? That’s the scale you work on, son.”

  He heard no coming, in a slow, sarcastic way, and bit his lip and controlled his temper. “Kind of like Emory,” he said, bitterly. Ultimate hubris, in Reseune. And almost said: if your committee had had to vet her projects we’d still be a damn production farm.

  But then he was in no wise sure what Emory had done twenty or thirty generations down, or how far, or whether Union itself worked, Denys’ Gehenna-reference chilled him.

  “Kind of like Emory,” Denys said slowly, without inflection. “I’ll tell you, Sociology has been mightily upset with your designs—the suggestion that they might have turned up a flaw in the projection programs, you know. You’ve given the programmers over there some sleepless nights. And quite honestly, we haven’t spilled the fact to Defense. You know how excited they get.”

  “I’ve never thought of going to them.”

  “Never?”

  “No, ser. I don’t see any percentage in doing it. Reseune—has its advantages. More than Planys does.”

  “Even if Defense might promise you residency with Jordan.”

  He took a breath and felt the unease of the Silencer to the roots of his teeth. It was hard to ignore. “I have thought of that. I hope to get him back here, ser, not—not put both of us there. He understands. He hopes for the same thing. Someday. Or we could have leaked this to Defense. Neither of us has.”

  “Jordan never has liked Defense,” Denys said. “They certainly didn’t help him at his hearing.”

  “You’ve counted on that,” Justin said quietly. “He could have talked to them. He didn’t. Not that I ever know of.”

  “No, you’re quite right. He doesn’t trust them. But mostly the consideration of your career. And Grant’s. Let’s be frank. We know—how far he could push us…and why he won’t. Let me go on being honest with you. He has every motive to lie to us and to you: to convince us you’re valuable in your own right, to make sure you’re protected—if he gets careless. You’re very naive if you think he wouldn’t do that.”

  He ignored the body blows and kept his face unmoved. “He values Grant too,” he said. “And I do. You always have a hostage. All you have to do is keep him untouched.”

  “Of course. That’s why Grant doesn’t travel.”

  “But once—alone—even for a few hours—that trip would be worth it to Grant. And to my father. What’s a hostage worth, if the one you’re holding him against—forgets his value?”

  Denys gave a heavy sigh. “Son, I don’t enjoy this situation; and I had far rather have peace with the Warrick clan, God knows how, without making a slip that gets someone hurt. I’m being utterly honest with you, I’m telling you my worries in the matter. I still believe in you enough to have you in on the Project on Yanni’s say-so. We’re solvent again, but we’re sure as hell not taking chances or spending wildly, and you’re asking for a major amount of effort here, on something that’s already been a headache to Sociology—”

  “You say yourself, if those projections are wrong, if Sociology is working on flaws, then Defense ought to be interested. I’d call that a major matter, ser, I don’t know what more it takes to qualify.”

  Denys frowned. “I was about to say, young friend,—‘but, over all, a benefit.’ All right, you get your test subject. Six-month run.”

  “Thank you, ser.” Justin drew a whole breath. “I appreciate your honesty.” Like hell. “And I hope—from my side—you understand the meeting yesterday—”

  “Absolutely,” Denys said. “I do. I appreciate the call. Ari has lunch in there now and again. You can’t stay in hiding. You handled it exactly right.”

  “I told her Ari was my instructor. Since she asked about my knowing her. I figured—I’d better say how I knew her—early.”

  “That falls in an area she can’t research. But yes, I see your reasoning. I have no objection to it. Sometimes you have to make fast assessments with her—God knows. You should live with her.” Denys chuckled, and leaned back again. “She’s a challenge. I know that, believe me.”

  “I—” God, it was an opening. It was lying in front of him. “The other thing I wanted to talk with you about: the Rubin sets, ser, I wish—wish you’d take a look at that, yourself; and my arguments. Working with Ari, the way you do,—I thought you—could give me a viewpoint—I don’t have.”

  “On the Rubin case? Or regarding Ari?”

  “I—see one bearing on the other. Somewhat. Ser.”

  Denys rocked his chair back and forth and lifted his brows. “Yanni told me.”

  “I just wonder if you’d take a look at the latest paper.”

  “I have looked at it. Yanni sent it over. I’ll tell you, a lot you’re doing is quite, quite good. I’m aware of your personal profile. I know what a strain it is for you to work real-time, or anything close to it, and I appreciate the stress you’ve undertaken—for that boy on Fargone. I know it’s hard for Morley to appreciate how much pressure you’re under…your tendency to internalize these cases. Damn bad thing for a clinical psychologist. About Ari, let me tell you, of course the cases are linked and of course your worry for the Rubin boy is going to spill over in worry about Ari, your personal mindset guarantees it.—But we can’t hand you the whole of both projects, you do understand that, Justin, no more than we can find you a planet to test with.”

  “I just—” He had had enough people calling him a fool in his life he should be less sensitive; but Denys didn’t bludgeon, Denys was stinging and unexpected as a paper-cut. “—just hoped—if you had time, ser, you might want to consider contingencies.”

  Riposte to Denys.

  Denys rocked forward again, leaned on the desk. “We’re working an emergency course change with the Rubin baby. You’re giving us a useful perspective on the Rubin case, because we have a problem, but we sure as hell aren’t in that situation with Ari—”

  “Rubin worked till the thing blew up, forgive me if I misunderstand, but the matter went deeper than Jenna Schwartz and Stella Rubin—”

  “Let me tell you, Justin, I do worry about someone who’s so sure he’s right he can’t conceive of being wrong. I know Yanni’s talked to you about that problem.”

  “I’ll send you my project papers. I’ll pay for them. Enough for your damn committee. Point of information—is that interference?” He drew a breath. “I happen to think it’s sane to consider related data in a case where a committee is running an untested program. I’m not asking you for data; I’m not asking you even for data on the Rubin case that I damn well need to work with, because I know I haven’t got a chance in hell of getting it. But I can hand it to you, at my own expense, since Reseune can’t afford the faxes, in the theory you ought to have it available. I don’t call that interference. Shred it if you like. But at least I’ll have tried!”

  Denys rubbed his lip, and picked up another pastille. Popped it into his mouth. “Damn, you’re persistent.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Denys looked at him a very long time. “Tell me. Does your own experience—as Jordan’s replicate—bear on your confidence that you understand the Project?”

  The question he had not wanted asked. Ever. His heart hit bottom. “I don’t know. Everything bears on my ideas. How can I sort it out?”

  “It’s interesting to me. You were never aware of yourself as a replicate—until you were—how old?”

  “Six. Seven. Something like. I don’t remember.”

>   “Always in Jordan’s shadow. Always willing to take Jordan’s opinion over your own. I think there is something in you…possibly a very important something. But sometimes I see other things: Jordan’s stubbornness; his tendency to be right beyond all reason.” Denys shook his head and sighed. “You have a hell of a way of applying for finance. Attack the people who can give it to you. Just exactly like Jordan.”

  “If politics matters more than what is,—”

  “Damn, more and more like your father.”

  Justin shoved the chair back and got up to leave. Fast. Before he lost his temper altogether. “Excuse me, then.”

  “Justin, Justin,—remember? Remember who funded your research time? That was out of my budget, at a time we could hardly afford it. I take everything you’ve said as an honest intent to help. I assure you. I have your report; I’ll have my secretary fax it for the committee. And any other material you want to send.”

  He was left, on his feet, with the anger still running through him. It made a tremor in his muscles. He jammed his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. “Then thank you, ser. What about my Test request?”

  “God,” Denys sighed. “Yes, son. You have it. No change in that. Just—do us all a favor. Don’t intrude any further into the Project. Keep on being prudent as you have been. Ari’s handling everything very well. She’s accepted being Ari’s replicate, taken everything in stride. But she likes you. And she doesn’t know how her predecessor died. Her time-frame on Ari is constantly lagged. The Ari she knows is five going on six, and beyond that, she’s seen only a few pictures. Remember that.”

  “When will she know?”

  “I’m not sure,” Denys said. “I tell you that honestly. We make decisions real-time on this side of the Project; there’s no way for me to answer that question. But believe me—I will warn you, when it becomes—immediate. That’s one of the things we worry about as much as you do.”

  vi

  It was shots again. Ari winced as the hypo popped against her arm, not one hypo, but three, besides the blood tests she had had every few days of her life.

  Nothing wrong with you, Dr. Ivanov had told her repeatedly. We just do this.

  Which was a lie. Dr. Ivanov had finally said so, when she found out she was a replicate and asked whether the first Ari had had something wrong with her: No, but the first Ari had tests just like yours, because her maman knew she was going to be somebody special, and because tests like these are valuable information. You’re a very bright little girl. We’d like to know if something special goes on in your bloodstream.

  But the shots made her dizzy and sick at her stomach and she was tired of getting shots and having needles in her arm.

  She frowned at the nurse and thought where she would like to give the nurse a hypo, right when her back was turned. But she took the thermometer under her tongue a second till it registered, then took it out and looked at it.

  “A point under,” she told the nurse. Who insisted to look at it. “I always am. Do I get to go now?”

  “Wait here,” the nurse said, and went out, leaving her sitting in the damn robe and a little cold, the way the hospital always was, people could freeze to death in this place.

  In a moment Dr. Ivanov came in. “Hello, Ari. Feeling fine?”

  “The shot made me sick. I want to go get an orange or something.”

  “That’s fine. That’s a good idea.” He came and took her pulse again. And smiled at her. “A little mad?”

  “I’m tired of this. I’ve been in here twice this week. I’m not going to have any blood left.”

  “Well, your body is going through some changes. You’re just growing up, sweet, that’s all. Perfectly normal. You know a lot of it. But you’re going to take a tape this afternoon. If you have any questions you can call me or Dr. Wojkowski, whichever you’d rather—she might be a little better at this.”

  She wrinkled her nose, not with any clear idea, really, what he was talking about, except she was embarrassed sitting there in the robe, which was more than she used to sit there in, and suspecting that it had to do with sex and boys and that she was going to be embarrassed as hell if she had to listen to Dr. Ivanov explain to her what she had already figured out.

  Do you understand? he would ask her every three lines, and: Yes, she would say, because he would not get through it without that.

  But he didn’t mention it. He just told her go on to library, she had the tape to do.

  They gave it to her to take home to use, on the house machine, so it wasn’t one of the skill ones, that she had to take with a tech.

  It certainly wasn’t, she decided, when she saw the title. It said Human Sexuality. She was embarrassed in front of the librarian, who was a man, and tucked it into her bag and took it fairly straight home, very glad that Seely was out and Nelly was at her day job and there wasn’t anyone around.

  She applied the patch over her heart and lay down on the couch in the tape lounge and took the pill. When the pill began to work she pushed the button.

  And was awfully glad, in a vague, tape-dazed way, that she hadn’t had to take this one with any tech sitting by her.

  There were things she hadn’t known, things a lot different than horses, and things the same, and things Dr. Edwards had sort of hit on in biology, but not really explained with pictures and in the detail the tape had.

  When it was over she lay there recovering from the pill and feeling really funny—not bad. Not bad at all. But like something was going on with her she could not control, that she sure as hell didn’t want uncle Denys or Seely to know about.

  It certainly had to do with sex. And it was hard to get up finally and get her mind off it. She thought about doing the tape again, not that she was not going to remember, but because she wanted to try out the feeling again, to see if it was the way she remembered it.

  Then she thought it might not feel the same, and she didn’t want it not to. So she put the tape back in her bag and because she didn’t want the thing lying around her room where Nelly would find it and look at her funny, she had a glass of orange juice to get her blood moving again and walked all the way back to the library to drop it in the turn-in slot.

  Then she went to lunch and went to class, but her concentration was shot to hell. Even Dr. Edwards frowned at her when he caught her woolgathering.

  She did her write-up on the filly. It was a long day, because people were mostly busy, uncle Denys and Seely and Nelly and everybody, because Florian and Catlin were off since three days ago on a training exercise that was not going to finish till the end of the week.

  She went over to the guppy lab to see if Amy was there. Tommy was. Tommy was not who she wanted to see, but she sat and talked with him a little while. Tommy was doing some stuff with the reds that she could give him some information on.

  She went home to do more homework. Alone.

  “Ari,” uncle Denys said, on the Minder, when she had had dinner and she was still doing homework in her room. “Ari, I want to talk with you in my study.”

  Oh, God, she thought. Uncle Denys was going to ask her about the tape. She had rather die.

  But it was even more embarrassing to make a fuss about it. So she got up and slunk in and stood in uncle Denys’ doorway.

  “Oh. Ari. There you are.”

  I’m going to die. Right here. On the spot.

  “I want to talk with you. Sit down.”

  God. I have to look at him.

  She sat, and held on to the arms of the chair.

  “Ari, you’re getting older. Nelly’s really fond of you—but she’s really not doing much but housework anymore. She really lives with the lab babies. And she’s awfully good at that. I wonder if you’ve thought any more whether you’d like—well, to see Nelly go over to lab full-time. It’s the nature of nurses, you know, the babies grow up.”

  That was all it was. She drew a long breath, and thought about her room, and how she liked Nelly, but she liked Nelly better when she wasn
’t with Nelly, because Nelly always had her feelings hurt and was always upset when she wanted to spend more time with Florian and Catlin, and was constantly tweaking at her hair, her clothes, straightening her collar—sometimes Nelly made her want to scream.

  “Sure,” she said. “Sure, if she’s all right. I don’t think she’s very happy.”

  She felt guilty about that, sort of, because Nelly had been maman’s, because Nelly had been hers—because Nelly was—Nelly—and never would understand the way she was now.

  And because she was so glad it was about that and not about the other thing she just wanted to agree and get out of there.

  She was guilty the next morning when Nelly went to hospital not knowing what they were going to do with her tape this time.

  “I’m really not upset,” Nelly protested to uncle Denys at the door, with her overnight kit in her hand. “I don’t think I need to.”

  “That’s fine,” uncle Denys said. “I’m glad. But I think you’re due for a check.”

  A Super said anything that he had to say, to keep an azi from being stressed.

  So Nelly came and kissed her goodbye.“ ’Bye, Nelly,” Ari said, and hugged her around the neck, and let her go.

  She was able to do that, because letting Nelly know would scare Nelly to death. Only when the door shut she bit her lip hard enough to bleed and said to uncle Denys:

  “I’m going on to class.”

  “Are you all right, Ari?”

  “I’m fine.”

  But she cried when she got out in the hall, and straightened her face up and wiped her eyes and held it in, because she was not a baby anymore.

  Nelly was not going to get hurt; Nelly was going to hospital where they would slide her right over to a job she was happy at, and tell her she had done a wonderful job, her first baby was grown, and she had a whole lot of others that needed her.