Greg Bear - Darwin's Radio

Kushner sniffed and frowned. “Smells like robots live here.”

“The real estate agent said it should smell clean,” Kaye said, stalling to buy time enough to get her wits together. “And when they cleaned upstairs…after Saul…it left a smell. Pine-Sol. Lysol. Something.”

“Jesus,” Kushner said softly.

“You turned down Marge Cross?” Kaye said.

“I have enough work to keep me happy for the rest of my life, sweetie. I don’t need a driven money machine calling the shots. Have you seen her on TV?”

Kaye nodded.

“Don’t believe her image.”

A car rumbled along the driveway. Kaye looked out the front bay window and saw a large hunter-green Chrysler sedan. A young man in a gray suit stepped out and opened the right rear door. Debra Kim emerged, looked around, shielded her face against a cool wind off the water. A few flakes of snow were starting to fall.

The young man in gray opened the left side door and Marge Cross unfolded, all six feet of her, wearing a dark blue wool overcoat, her graying black hair done up in a dignified bun. She said something to the young man and he nodded, returned to the driver’s side, leaned against the car as Cross and Debra Kim walked up to the porch.

“I’m flabbergasted,” Kushner said. “She works faster than the speed of thought.”

“You didn’t know she was coming?”

“Not this soon. Should I run out the back door?”

Kaye shook her head and for the first time in days she could not help laughing. “No. I’d like to see you two argue over my soul.”

“I love you, Kaye, but I know better than to argue with Marge.”

Kaye stepped quickly to the front door and opened it before Cross could ring the bell. Cross broke into a broad, friendly grin, her blocky face and small green eyes brimming with motherly cheer.

Kim smiled nervously. “Hello, Kaye,” she said, her face pinking.

“Kaye Lang? We haven’t been introduced,” Cross said.

My God, Kaye thought. She does sound like Julia Child !

Kaye made instant vanilla-flavored coffee from an old tin and poured it around in the china she was leaving with the house. Not for a moment did Cross make her feel as if she was serving something less than stylish and gourmet to a woman worth twenty billion dollars.

“I’m here to be up front with you. I was out seeing Debra’s lab at AKS,” Cross said. “She’s doing very intriguing work. We have a place for her. Debra mentioned your situation…”

Kushner glanced at Kaye, nodded ever so faintly.

“And frankly, I’ve wanted to meet you for months now. I have five young men who read the literature for me — all very handsome and very smart. One of the handsomest and the smartest told me, ‘Read this.’ Your piece predicting expression of ancient human provirus. Wow. Now — it’s more timely than ever. Kim says you’re fielding an offer to work for the CDC. For Christopher Dicken.”

“The Herod’s Taskforce and Mark Augustine, actually,” Kaye said.

“I know Mark. He delegates well. You’ll be working for Christopher. He’s a bright boy.” Cross plowed on as if discussing gardening. “We intend to set up a world-class investigation and research team to work on Herod’s. We are going to find a treatment, maybe even a cure. We’ll offer the specialized treatments at all Americol hospitals, but we’ll sell the kits to anybody. We have the infrastructure, my God, we have the finances…We partner with the CDC, and you can act as one of our reps inside HHS and NIH. It’ll be like the Apollo program, government and industry working together on a huge scale, but this time, wherever we land, we stay.” Cross shifted on the couch to face Kushner. “My offer to you still stands, Judith. I’d love to have you both working for us.”

Kushner gave a little laugh, almost girlish. “No thanks, Marge. I’m too old to put on a new harness.”

Cross shook her head. “No chafing, guaranteed.”

“I’m not at all clear about doing double duty,” Kaye said. “I haven’t even started work with the Taskforce.”

“I’m seeing Mark Augustine and Frank Shawbeck this afternoon. If you want, you can fly with me down to Washington. We can see them together. You’re invited, too, Judith.”

Kushner shook her head, but this time her laugh was forced.

Kaye sat silently for a few seconds, staring down at her clasped hands, the knuckles and nails alternating white and pink as she squeezed and relaxed her fingers. She knew what she was going to say, but she wanted to hear more from Cross.

“You will never have to worry about funding for anything you care to work on,” Cross said. “We’ll put it in your contract. I’m that confident in you.”

But do I want to be a jewel in your crown, my queen? Kaye asked herself.

“I work on my instincts, Kaye. I’ve already had you checked out by my human resources people. They think you’ll be doing your best work in the decades to come. Work with us, Kaye. Nothing you ever do will be ignored or trivialized.”

Kushner laughed again, and Cross smiled at them both.

“I want to get out of this house as soon as I can,” Kaye said. “I wasn’t going down to Atlanta until next week…I’m looking for an apartment down there now.”

“I’ll ask my people to take care of it. We’ll find you something nice in Atlanta or Baltimore, wherever you settle.”

“My God,” Kaye said with a small smile.

“Something else I know is important to you. You and Saul did a lot of work in the Republic of Georgia. I may have the contacts to salvage that. I’d like to do a lot more research on phage therapy. I think I can persuade Tbilisi to pull back on the political pressure. It’s all ridiculous anyway — a bunch of amateurs trying to run things.”

Cross put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently. “Come with me now, fly to Washington, let’s see Mark and Frank, meet with anybody else you might want to talk to, get a feel for things. Make your decision in a couple of days. Consult your attorney if you wish. We’ll even provide a draft contract. If it doesn’t work out, I leave you with the CDC, no gripes, no grudges.”

Kaye turned to Kushner and saw on her mentor’s face the same expression she had shown when Kaye had told her she was going to marry Saul. “What kind of restrictions are there, Marge?” Kushner asked quietly, folding her hands in her lap.

Cross sat back and pursed her lips. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Scientific credit goes to the team. The company PR office orchestrates all press releases and oversees all papers for timeliness of release of information. No prima donna tactics. Financial rewards are shared in a very generous royalties deal.” Cross folded her arms. “Kaye, your lawyer is a little old and not too well versed on these things. Surely Judith can recommend a better one.”

Kushner nodded. “I’ll recommend a very good one…If Kaye is seriously considering your offer.” Her voice was a little pinched, disappointed.

“I’m not used to being courted with so many boxes of Go-divas and bunches of roses, believe me,” Kaye said, staring off at the carpet corner beyond the coffee table. “I would like to know what the Taskforce expects of me before I make any decision.”

“If you march into Augustine’s office with me, he’ll know what I’m up to. I think he’ll go along.”

Kaye surprised herself by saying, “Then I would like to fly to Washington with you.”

“You deserve it, Kaye,” Cross said. “And I need you. We’re not walking into a funhouse here. I want the best researchers, the best armor I can get.”

Outside, the snow was falling much faster. Kaye could see that Cross’s chauffeur had moved inside the car and was talking on a cell phone. A different world, so fast, busy, connected, with so little time to actually think.