F Paul Wilson - Sims 05 (3 page)

 
          
NEWARK
,
NJ

 
          
Something’s
not right, Zero thought with a pang of unease. We’re missing something.

 
          
He
sat next to Tome in the rear seat of the van as it bounced over the rough
pavement of
Newark
’s dark back streets toward the sim quarters
Portero had led him to last night. Not quite 6:00P .M. yet but the sun was long
gone and icy night had taken command.

 
          
Tome
was dressed like the worker
sims
, but he’d been
equipped with a PCA. The plan was to drop him off where he could sneak into the
building and mix with the other
sims
. Zero was
confident that Tome’s gentle nature and above-average intelligence would gain
him the respect and confidence of the other
sims
,
enough so that one of them would trust him with Meerm’s whereabouts. When he
found out, he’d press the preset speed-dial number and they’d pick him up.

 
          
Zero
sighed. Not a perfect plan. It hinged entirely on the assumption that the sim
laborers knew where Meerm was hiding.

 
          
His
face itched under the ski mask; he’d traded tinted glasses for the ultra darks
he usually wore, but they still impaired his vision. He wished he could pull
everything off and ride along like a normal human being. But then, he wasn’t a
normal human being.

 
          
Just
ahead of him, Patrick and Romy
were
a pair of
silhouettes in the front seat.

 
          
“You
two have done wonderful work,” Zero said. “You make a great team.”

 
          
“We
do, don’t
we
,” Patrick said from behind the wheel.

 
          
Zero
watched them glance at each other and smile. He could sense the growing bond
between him. And as much as it made him ache to see Romy with Patrick, he knew
it was for the best. Despite their surface differences, Zero sensed that they
complemented each other on the deeper levels where it really counted.

 
          
He
steered his thoughts away from Romy and toward what she and Patrick had
uncovered today.

 
          
“We
now have an ironclad chain of evidence. It doesn’t take a handwriting expert to
decipher the signature on Alice Fredericks’s Manassas Ventures check as ‘Conrad
Landon.’ That draws a direct line from the Department of Defense to SimGen.”

 
          
“It’s
not something that will hold up in a court of law,” Patrick said. “Off the top
of my head I can think of half a dozen grounds for preventing it from being
admitted as evidence. But in the court of public opinion, it’s a hydrogen
bomb.”

 
          
“Assuming
the public gives a damn,” Romy said.

 
          
Patrick
nodded. “Oh, they’ll care all right. We lay it out clear and simple for them.
We show how SimGen’s early financing was public money: from Manassas Ventures
which got it from SIRG which got it from the Department of Defense. The obvious
question then is: Why? What did the D-o-D get in return? So we’ll explain how
Manassas leases trucks in Idaho that show up on the SimGen campus, transporting
cargo back and forth, cargo that no one’s allowed to see. But we’ve seen it,
and that’s when we show them Kek. When we reveal that Kek was found in Idaho,
they’ll be able to connect the last dots themselves: SimGen is producing hybrid
simian soldiers for the Department of Defense to use in black ops or guerrilla
operations. When the public learns that SimGen has been turning normally
harmless creatures into man-killers, they’ll care. They’ll care like crazy.
SimGen’s dirty little secret will finally be out in the open for all to see,
and that will be the beginning of the end of SimGen.”

 
          
Zero
had been listening to Patrick, but someone else’s words had been echoing
through his brain at the same time.

 
          
You
have no idea what you’re getting into, the forces you’ll be setting in
motion…they’ll crush you.

 
          
“No
comment back there?” Patrick said.

 
          
“As
I told you: wonderful work.”

 
          
But
still that uneasy feeling plagued Zero. Was this the danger Ellis had warned
him about? He could see now why the people behind SimGen were so ruthless when
it came to protecting the company.

 
          
So
he added, “Now we know why SIRG’s funding was cut off: it didn’t need any more.
With all the SimGen stock it holds in Manassas Ventures, SIRG is a financially
independent organization.
Which means we’ve got to be more
careful than ever.
”

 
          
“Right,”
Patrick said. “More than careers and reputations hang in the balance should
their little operation
be
exposed. Billions of bucks
are at stake.”

 
          
Romy
half turned in her seat. “Which raises a scary question: If SIRG has its own
billions to finance its operations, who does it answer to?”

 
          
“No
one with a conscience, that’s for sure.
Maybe someone high up
in the Pentagon, maybe only Conrad Landon himself.”

 
          
“I
think we can count on SIRG to do whatever it deems necessary to protect its
investment,” Zero told them. “That’s why, if we’re going to bring SimGen down,
I’d prefer to find a way that keeps you two out of the spotlight.”

 
          
“Which
is why we’re heading to Newark, I assume.”

 
          
“Exactly.
I think it will be safer for all concerned if we
let Meerm and her
baby bring
down SimGen.”

 
          
“But
that puts the child in jeopardy,” Romy said.

 
          
“No
more so than now. Meerm’s baby is just as much a threat to SimGen dead as it is
alive. Its half-human, half-sim DNA will tell the whole story, a story that,
unlike the money trail you’ve discovered, can’t be denied or stonewalled or
spun into something with no resemblance to the truth. That baby is a slam
dunk.”

 
          
“Then
it’s all on our buddy Tome.”

 
          
“Yes,
Mist Sulliman,” Tome said from his seat beside Zero.
“Tome
ready help.”

 
          
“I
know you are,” Zero said softly.

 
          
Now
Romy looked back at him from the front seat. “Zero, I’ve been around you long
enough to know when you’re holding something back. What aren’t you telling us?”

 
          
So
many things…but right now Ellis Sinclair’s words continued to haunt him,
especially his warning about the fallout from what they might uncover.

 
          
Things that will hurt me personally, and devastate other, more
innocent, parties.
Things that no one will want to hear. And don’t think
you’ll come through unscathed, either.

 
          
That
last part had been particularly unsettling, but not as jarring as his final
warning about what they might find.

 
          
Some
of it is sensitive. And some of it is…unspeakable.

 
          
Zero
couldn’t allow Romy and Patrick even a hint of his connection to Ellis, but
perhaps he could hint at the man’s warnings.

 
          
“It’s
not so much holding back as a feeling that there’s something more behind all
this, something we’re missing.”

 
          
“Like
what?” Patrick said. “SIRG is the bastard child SimGen’s been hiding in its
basement. That’s enough, don’t you think?”

 
          
“I
suppose so.”

 
          
But
he remained dissatisfied and uneasy. What had they missed?

 
          
Zero
shook off the worries as he spotted a street sign.

 
          
“We’re
getting close.”

 
          
“Another
scenic neighborhood,” Patrick said.
“The Bronx, East New
York, Alphabet City, and now Newark.
Where next? Beirut?”

 
          
Zero
had to admit that Patrick had a point. Low-rent businesses, abandoned,
graffito-crusted buildings, stripped skeletons of cars lining the street…but
just the kind of low-rent neighborhood someone would pick to house sim
laborers.

 
          
“It’s
to the right up ahead,” he told Patrick, “but don’t make the turn. Cruise
through the intersection and everyone keep an eye out for surveillance teams.”

 
          
“You
think Portero’s watching the place?” Romy said.

 
          
“Count
on it.”

 
          
They
made a couple of passes through the immediate area, and along the way spotted
four occupied sedans. The first, with a pair of men slouched in the front seat,
was parked across the street from the front door of the building; a single
occupant in each of the other three; two of those were situated on the streets
that flanked the sim building, the last sitting opposite a narrow alley that
appeared to lead toward the rear of the building.

 
          
Patrick
pulled into the curb two blocks away and stopped under a dead streetlight.
Ahead and to the right, the light over the front door of the sim crib glowed
like a star in the darkness.

 
          
“This
looks too risky, Zero,” he said. “Tome’s not going in.”

 
          
“Tome
can go,” said the sim.

 
          
“Uh-uh,”
Patrick said, shaking his head, and Zero could sense his resolve turning to
stone. “I won’t allow it.”

 
          
Zero
sighed. “I agree.”

 
          
He
couldn’t see any way of slipping Tome past Portero’s surveillance.

 
          
“Damn.”
Zero made a fist. “I anticipated two teams, not four.”

 
          
“Might
be five—one roving. I swear we passed the same green Taurus twice.”

 
          
Just
then a school bus rumbled past and pulled to a stop before the sim building. As
Zero watched it disgorge its crew of sim laborers, he had an idea.

 
          
“All
right,” he said. “Let’s head back.”

 
          
Romy
said, “We’re not giving up already, are we?”

 
          
“Not
a chance.
Just changing tactics.
And I promise you, by
this time tomorrow night Tome will be safely inside that building, and no one
will be the wiser.”

 
          
“Tomorrow’s
Saturday,” Patrick said. “Will the sims be working?”

 
          
“Of course.
They work every day. ‘Weekend’ has no meaning
for a sim.”

 
          
As
they drove back Zero reviewed all they’d learned about SIRG and Manassas. He
knew Ellis had been sincere when he’d warned him against digging too deep.
Well, they’d dug, and dug deep. They’d discovered a dirty little secret, yes,
but nothing “unspeakable.”

 
          
And
that worried Zero.

 
          
Meerm ver hungry.
Drink rainwater some but no food all day.
Ver fraid go out. Stay behind metal door till dark. Still fraid go out. Tummy
hurt so ver bad. And belly kick-kick-kick all day.

 
          
Must go out.
Push metal door.
Goskeek ver
loud.
But no mans come.

 
          
Meerm
go out. Smell food, yum-yum food smell. Drool smell.
From
other side fence.

 
          
Meerm
creep to fence, peek
through. See gold arch. Go under
fence, cross street, go sticker bush, come other fence. See Mickey-D! Mickey-D!
But can’t have.
Meerm so sad.

 
          
Meerm
see boy-mans come out Mickey-D. Hold black bag, throw in big big metal can.
When boy-man go, Meerm squeeze through fence
hole
and
go to can. Top ver high but Meerm climb up and fall inside. Many bag here.
Meerm rip one. Yum-yum food
smell come
out. Meerm
reach inside, find much food, half-eat, all mixy-mixy. Meerm not care.
Is yum-yum.

 
          
Ouch.
Hand hurt. Meerm look. See rats.
Rat want
food too.
Bite Meerm. Meerm throw food at rat.
Plenty food here.
Food for all.

 
          
Meerm
shove food into mouth fast can.
Chew-chew-chew.
So good.
Meerm not sad now.
Still
hurt but
hunger go
. Good.
For now.