F Wilson - Sims

As the computers booted up he stepped to the mantle of the cold fireplace where an eight-by-ten black-and-white photo of Romy Cadman leaned against the wall. He loved this close-up, taken with a telefoto lens shortly after a letter to the editor of theTimes had brought her to his attention. He felt a familiar ache as he stared at her face.

Romy…were there other women in the world like her? If so, he’d never met one. But then, really, how many women had he met? Nowhere near enough for a fair comparison.

He ran a fingertip along her cheek, wishing he could do so in the flesh.

And what did others matter, anyway? Romy was Romy, his Romy. He knew he shouldn’t think of her as his, for she never would be, never could be. That would require removing his mask for her, letting her see his face. And then she’d reject him, turn away in loathing.

Well…he didn’t actuallyknow that, but he couldn’t risk it. Better this way. At least he could see her often, be near her, talk to her, hear her voice. But once she rejected him, all that would be lost. And even if by some miracle she, superior woman though she might be, didn’t reject him, the whole relationship would change, and not for the better.

Tonight’s Romy ritual ended with a knock on the front door. Even though he was expecting it, Zero jumped at the sound. A visitor here was an occasion. Only one person knew where he lived, and his visits were rare.

He laid the photo face down on the mantle and went to the door. When he opened it he embraced his oldest and dearest friend, the man who was like a father to him.

“How are you?”

“Good, Ellis. Very good. How are you?”

“Getting better every day, thanks to what you and your group have been doing.”

Ellis Sinclair did look better. Maybe a little grayer, but less gaunt. Perhaps he was eating better.

“Come in,” Zero said, shutting the door and taking Ellis’s coat.

He felt a little awkward. He was unpracticed at being a host.

Ellis did a slow turn, taking in the small living room. “Are you comfortable here?”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

He pulled a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet under the TV. He’d never developed a taste for liquor himself, but he knew his guest was something of a hard drinker. But Ellis surprised him by waving it off.

“Thanks, but I’m taking a breather from the booze.”

Zero almost said, Glad to hear it, but reconsidered. Wouldn’t be appropriate.

“Coffee, then?”

Ellis shook his head. “I can’t stay long. As I told you, the reason I’m here is because I didn’t want to discuss this over the phone. May I sit?”

“Of course.”

How strange to acquiesce to a request for a seat from the owner of the house. Since the purchase of real estate would be—to put it mildly—awkward for Zero, Ellis Sinclair had bought the place for him years ago.

“I gather this is fairly important then,” Zero said as they seated themselves, Ellis on the couch, and Zero in the recliner.

A vague anxiety had been nibbling at him since Ellis’s call late this afternoon. What was too sensitive to discuss over an encrypted phone?

“More than fairly. In fact I was followed tonight—by Portero himself, I believe.”

“But you lost him.” It was a statement. He knew Ellis would have aborted his visit if he thought he was being followed.

“Yes. Took a subway to Forest Hills and rented a car there.” He shifted in his chair. “But let me cut to the chase here: Someone asked a very disturbing question at the stockholders’ meeting today.”

Zero nodded. “You mean about ‘surge’?”

“Exactly. One of your people, I presume?”

“Yes. Ms. Cadman. It was her idea. We heard the word from a man who tried to assault her, and she thought that would be a way to see if it meant anything.”

“Just the word?” Ellis said, his eyebrows lifting. “That’s all you have?”

Too much had been happening lately to allow Zero time to give Ellis one of his irregular briefings, so he filled him in now on the invasion of Romy’s apartment, the Totuus, and Palmer’s resultant aphasia.

“So you have no idea what this Palmer fellow was referring to,” Ellis said.

“Not yet. But we know it means something. And I figure you’re the man who can tell us just what.”

Ellis tapped his fingers on the armrest of the recliner. This went on for an agonizing minute. Then, “No, I’m not.”

“What?” Zero couldn’t hide his shock. “You’re a founder of SimGen! This goes back to Manassas Ventures. They gave you start-up capital. You’vegot to know!”

“I do know,” Ellis said. “But I can’t tell you.”

“Anotherthing you can’t tell me?” He could feel his blood rising. “When I found Kek you said you couldn’t tell me anything about him or about what was going on in Idaho. ‘Too sensitive,’ you said. Now two men attempt a chemical rape on the minds of Romy Cadman and Patrick Sullivan; we ask one of them who sent him and he tells us ‘surge.’ You know who that is and won’t tell me? Why on earth not? ‘Too sensitive’ again?”

“No,” Ellis said, his gaze boring into Zero. “Too dangerous.”

“It’s already dangerous.”

“But you’ve sampled only a taste of what’s waiting for you if you push this further.”

“You’re telling me to back off?”

“I’mbegging you to back off.”

Zero couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But the emotion in Ellis’s voice—fear, desperation—were real.

“Isn’t this what you set me up to do?”

“No, it’s not. Your goal—our goal—is to turn the public against SimGen and the idea of sims as laborers.Stop further cloning of sims —that was the goal, remember?”

“Of course. And how better to turn the public against SimGen than to find its dirty laundry and wave it in the air for all to see?”

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

“They have to find us first.”

“Zero, leave it alone, I beg you. You’re making progress on so many other fronts. You don’t need—”

“Progress? What progress? SimGen is opening more natal centers all the time!”

“We may soon have to rethink that with the tide of public opinion turning. Manufacturers, one or two of them major, are starting to advertise their products, their clothes, toys, appliances, and so on, as ‘sim-free.’ Mutual funds specializing in sim-free companies are springing up. The Beacon Ridge poisoning—it’s awful to look at it as anything but an atrocity, but something good did come out of it because it’s accelerated the process.” Ellis leaned forward, his expression intense, alive with hope. “We’rewinning , Zero. Leave Manassas Ventures and the rest alone.”

We’renot winning, damn it, Zero thought, his frustration a fire in his gut.

“What we’ve been doing until now is like trying to tame a killer carnivore by removing its food supply. Can’t be done. Or if it can, it’ll take a lifetime. But that was all we had, the only way we knew to deal with it. Until now. Now we may have found a weapon, one that can strike at the heart of the beast. And that changes everything.”

“But you’re forgetting that there’s a pregnant sim somewhere out there. Find her and prove that the father of her child is human and our war is won!”

“Ifwe find her. That’s a very, very big ‘if,’ Ellis. And if we don’t, and if we neglect this ‘surge’ lead while we hunt for her, then we may miss a crucial opportunity.”

“I know you’re chafing to end this crusade, but you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“They’ve already tried to kill Romy and Patrick. What can be worse?