Робин Кук - Mutation

“When did you decide this?” Marsha asked, lowering her glass.

Victor shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly,” he said. “Sometime this week.”

“That means even you think the deaths were really murders; that somebody deliberately killed those children,” Marsha said with renewed alarm.

Victor had forgotten that he’d purposefully kept the information about the cephaloclor from her. He swallowed uncomfortably.

“Victor!” Marsha said with resentment. “What haven’t you told me?”

Stalling, Victor took a sip from his drink. He tried to think of some smoke screen to cover the truth, but couldn’t think of a thing. The day’s revelations had made him careless. With a sigh he explained about the cephaloclor in the children’s blood.

“My God!” Marsha whispered. “Are you sure it was someone at Chimera who gave the children the cephaloclor?”

“Absolutely,” Victor said. “The only place the children’s lives intersected was at the Chimera day-care center. That had to be where they were given the cephaloclor.”

“But who would do such a terrible thing?” Marsha asked. She wanted to be reassured that VJ could not be involved.

“It had to be either Hurst or Ronald. If I had to pick one, I’d pick Hurst. But until I get harder evidence, all I can do is keep the security man with VJ to be sure no one tries to give him any cephaloclor.”

Just then the back door burst open and VJ, Philip, and Pedro Gonzales came into the family room. Marsha stayed in her seat, but Victor jumped up. “Hello, everybody,” Victor said, trying to sound cheerful. He started to introduce Pedro to Marsha but she interrupted him and said that they’d already met that morning.

“That’s good,” Victor said, rubbing his hands together. He obviously didn’t know what to do.

Marsha looked at VJ. VJ stared back at her with his penetrating blue eyes. She had to avert her gaze. It was a terrifying feeling for her to harbor the thoughts she had about him, especially since she’d come to realize that she was afraid of him.

“Why don’t you guys hit the pool?” Victor said to VJ and Philip.

“Sounds good to me,” VJ said. He and Philip went up the back stairs.

“You’ll be back in the morning?” Victor asked Pedro.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “Six A.M., I’ll be out in the courtyard in my car.”

Victor saw the man off, then came back into the kitchen.

“I’ll go have a talk with VJ,” Victor announced. “I’ll ask him directly about this intelligence question. Maybe whatever he says will make you feel better.”

“I think I already know what he’ll say,” said Marsha, “but suit yourself.”

Victor went up the stairs quickly and turned into VJ’s room. VJ looked expectantly at his father as he entered. Victor realized how awed he felt by his own creation. The boy was beautiful and had a mind that must be boundless. Victor didn’t know whether to be jealous or proud.

“Mother isn’t as excited about the lab as you are,” VJ said. “I can tell.”

“It was a little overwhelming for her,” Victor explained.

“I wish I hadn’t agreed to let her see it,” VJ said.

“Don’t worry,” Victor assured him. “I’ll take care of her. But there is something that has been bothering her for years. Did you fake your loss of intelligence back when you were three and a half?”

“Of course,” VJ said, slipping on his robe over his hairless body. “I had to. If I hadn’t, I’d never have been able to work as I have. I needed anonymity which I couldn’t have had as some superintelligent freak. I wanted to be treated normally, and for that to happen, I had to appear normal. Or close to it.”

“You didn’t think you could have talked to me about it?” Victor asked.

“Are you kidding?” VJ said. “You and Mom constantly had me on show. There was no way you would have been willing to let me quit.”

“You’re probably right,” Victor admitted. “For a while there your abilities were the focus of our lives.”

“Are you going to swim with us?” VJ asked with a smile. “I’ll let you win.”

Victor laughed in spite of himself. “Thanks, but I’d better go back and talk with Marsha. Get her to calm down. You have fun.” Victor went to the door, but turned back toward the room. “Tomorrow I’d like to hear the details about the implantation project.”

“I’ll be excited to show you,” VJ said.

Victor nodded, smiled, then went back downstairs. As he neared the kitchen he could smell garlic, onions, and peppers sauteeing for spaghetti sauce. A good sign, Marsha working on dinner.

Marsha had thrown herself into preparing the meal as a form of instant therapy. Her mind was such a jumble from the day’s numerous revelations. Busywork was a way of avoiding thinking about the implications. When Victor returned from talking to VJ, she studiously ignored him, instead focusing her attention on the tomato paste she was in the process of opening.

Victor didn’t say anything for a time. Instead, he laid the table and opened a bottle of Chianti. When he ran out of things to do, he sat on one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter and said, “You were right about VJ feigning his loss of intelligence.”

“I’m not surprised,” Marsha said. She got out the lettuce, onions, and cucumbers for the salad.

“But he had a damn good reason.” He gave her VJ’s to-the-point explanation.

“I guess that’s supposed to make me feel more comfortable,” Marsha said when Victor was done.

Victor said nothing.

Marsha persisted. “Tell me, when you were upstairs talking with VJ, did you ask him about the deaths of those children, and about David’s and Janice’s?”

“Of course not!” Victor said, horrified at the suggestion. “Why should I do that?”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“Because it’s preposterous.”

“I think you haven’t asked VJ anything about them because you’re afraid to,” Marsha said.

“Oh, come on,” Victor snapped. “You’re talking nonsense again.”

“I’m afraid to ask him,” Marsha said flatly. But she could feel the tug in her throat.

“You’re letting your imagination run wild. Now I know it’s been an upsetting day for you. I’m sorry. I really thought you’d be thrilled. But someday I think you’re going to look back on this day and laugh at yourself. If this implantation work is anything like he says it is, the sky’s the limit for VJ’s career.”

“I hope so,” Marsha said without conviction.

“But you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone about VJ’s lab,” Victor said.

“Who would I tell?”

“Let me handle VJ for the time being,” Victor said. “I’m sure we are going to be very proud of him.”

Marsha shuddered involuntarily as a chill passed down her spine. “Is it cold in here?” she asked.

Victor checked the thermostat. “Nope. If anything, it’s too warm.”

At four-thirty in the morning Marsha woke up with a start. She had no idea what had awakened her, and for a few minutes she breathed shallowly, and listened to the nighttime noises of the house. She heard nothing out of the ordinary. She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep but it was impossible. In her mind’s eye, she kept seeing VJ’s eerie lab with its juxtaposition of the old and the very new. Then she’d see the strange appearance of the man with the lidded eye.

Swinging her feet from beneath the covers, Marsha sat on the edge of the bed. So as not to bother Victor, she stood up, wiggled into her slippers, and pulled on her robe. As quietly as possible she eased open the door to the bedroom and equally as quietly, pulled it shut.