Jenna Black - Replica

The Chairman had originally insisted that the charade be further strengthened by having Nadia reunited with her family at the Riker’s Island processing center, where inmates were taken in and released, but Nate had categorically refused to entertain the possibility. Nadia didn’t much care where the big reunion occurred, as long as she got out of the Fortress. They were now two floors above the sub-basement, where Thea had resided, but that wasn’t anywhere near far enough away for her tastes.

Nate put his arms around her in a hug. She gratefully hugged him back, reveling in his warmth, wishing it would sink into her flesh and chase away the chill.

“We aren’t safe,” she whispered into his chest. “If your father ever manages to track down the recordings…”

She let her voice trail off. They both knew what would happen if she ever lost her leverage. The Chairman was usually a cold and dispassionate man, but she had clearly broken through that shell. The way he had looked at her when he’d stepped out of Thea’s room had spoken of a soul-deep hatred and a promise of revenge. She didn’t know how much of that hatred spilled over onto Nate. Maybe now that the Chairman could no longer create a Replica he would not stoop so low as to murder his own son. But Nadia wouldn’t put it past him, and she didn’t think Nate would, either.

“I know,” Nate said, lowering his head until he was whispering directly in her ear. There was no one around to hear, not at this moment, but after what they’d been through, she figured paranoia was natural—and smart.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. But that’s a problem to worry about later.”

He pushed her away a little, but only so he could look down into her eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair off of her cheek, tucking it behind her ear in an undeniably tender gesture. “I’m sorry I was such an ass to you yesterday. I was selfish, and judgmental, and otherwise completely out of line. Can you forgive me?”

Nadia’s heart fluttered in her chest. She was standing intimately close to him, staring into his eyes. He had touched her with affection, and there was unmistakable warmth in his eyes. He loved her, she realized, in his own way. It wasn’t the romantic, fairy-tale love she’d have wished for in the man she was destined to marry. Not the kind of love he had with Bishop. But it was love nonetheless, and she would have to settle for it until she found a Bishop of her own someday.

“Of course I forgive you,” she said, dropping her gaze and taking a step backward, not wanting him to read her thoughts.

Nate interpreted her withdrawal differently, not knowing the thoughts and emotions that were swirling through her head.

“You mean you’re trying to forgive me,” he said. “But I guess that will take some time.”

She glanced back up at his face to make a hasty denial, then stopped herself. He was right. They’d just been through an unspeakable trauma together, a trauma that made everything else that had gone on between them seem trivial. But none of the things they’d said to one another had gone away, and they were both still hurting. For now, all was peaceful between them, but there was still a storm waiting to be reckoned with.

“I’m sure the same goes for you,” she responded quietly.

He smiled sadly. “Probably so. But we’ll work it out, somehow. We might not be able to go back to what we were, but maybe we can become something new and better.”

“I hope so.”

And considering how dismal her future had looked just a handful of hours ago, that was a very cheering thought.

Ashower, a change of clothes, and a stiff drink had done wonders for the Chairman’s equilibrium, and he felt like himself once more. Fury still roiled in his gut: fury that he’d let a pair of teenage do-gooders outmaneuver him, fury that his own son was so completely out of his control, fury that he’d had to set his plans back by weeks, if not months, to keep those idealistic idiots from ruining everything.

The Chairman took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on pushing that pulsing fury back down. Nothing good ever came from explosions of temper, and he’d made a long and storied career out of maintaining his calm when others around him cracked. Now was not the time to allow emotion to get the best of him. His will was more powerful than his rage.

Steadied, the Chairman made his way down the hall of the Fortress’s basement, telling himself not to think about the carnage that was even now being cleaned up by security forces on the level below. At the end of the hall were the three labs that held Replication units. The Chairman stopped in front of the first one and discovered that his palms were sweating. He was confident Thea had understood what needed to be done, had understood the message he had been trying to give her when he typed in his passcode outside her door. He had typed “play dead” instead of the complex string of numbers and symbols that was his real passcode. Then he’d given her as much extra time as he could, pretending she was preventing him from entering her room.

Nerves still buzzing with apprehension, the Chairman pushed the door open.

A lab tech was hovering over the Replication unit, holding the coffinlike lid open while he inspected the contents. At the sound of the door opening behind him, the tech gently set the lid down and turned around.

“How is she?” the Chairman asked, pleased that his voice sounded as calm and steady as ever. The fate of his entire state might rest on the tech’s answer, but you would never know it from the Chairman’s expression or manner.

“All of her biological components appear to have been successfully Replicated,” the tech answered. “She will have to regrow some of her connective tissue, and of course we won’t know for certain that the procedure was successful until she has been reconnected with her hardware. But overall, I’m hopeful that she will make a full recovery.”

The Chairman’s knees felt weak with relief. Thea had understood, had managed to start the process for her own Replication during the time he had stalled.

“We will begin the rebuilding process at once,” the Chairman said.

“Of course, sir,” the tech said, then took the hint and left the room.

The Chairman stepped closer to the unit that held Thea’s biological heart and soul, resting his hand on the lid. “I’ll have you back to yourself in no time,” he promised her, though he doubted she could hear him in the state she was in. “One way or another, I’ll find those recordings, and I’ll destroy them. Then I’ll make a present to you of Nadia Lake and this obviously defective Replica of my son.”

For all the times the Chairman had decried Nate’s lack of responsibility and his reckless behavior, he realized now that he was much better off having a son who didn’t much care about business or politics. A son who insisted on sticking his nose where it didn’t belong was a decided inconvenience.

He stroked the lid of the Replication unit as if he were petting a dog. Thea wasn’t a human, but she did have her own thoughts and feelings, and he imagined today’s events had been traumatic for her. He wished there were a way he could comfort her, but all he could do was put her back together and then do whatever was necessary to protect her in the future.

“You’ll be back soon,” he murmured, giving the lid another pat.

Then he left the room, sending the tech back in to care for her. It was time he appoint a new chief of security, one who was just as cunning and ruthless as Dirk Mosely. One who could ferret out the illicit recordings Nadia Lake was hiding. And one who would not hesitate to do whatever was necessary for the good of Paxco.