Kingdom of Cages(123)

For five years, Tam had been trying to understand how Dionte had managed to steal the Eden Project, and where she could have hidden it. She had to have arranged some way to keep it alive and viable, otherwise what would have been the point of cutting it out of Helice Trust? She must be planning on using it to advance her cause against the Authority and the Called.

But what had she done with it? She could not have just given it to another hothouse. The records would be too easy to check. She could not have placed it openly in a village, for the same reason. But the villages did harbor loose networks of people who specialized in concealment, such as the Pharmakeus and tailors.

Nan Elle had been quietly running down her connections among the Pharmakeus. None of the Pharmakeus, however, had heard so much as a rumor of a child who had been brought out of a hothouse rather than taken into one. That had left the tailors.

An idea struck Tam now, making him sit up suddenly straighter on his pillow. He uncovered his data display, subvocalizing a new command. A fresh file spelled itself out on the tiny screen. Yes. There was, right now, a young woman from Offshoot in the involuntary wing. She had put herself up for the genetic draft and had been accepted after an initial screening. However, a further check on the records discovered artificial alterations to her genetic makeup. Basante was supposed to be interviewing her to determine the disposal of her body right, but he had not done so yet. Tam still had a chance to get to her first.

Tam jumped to his feet and started down the stairs. It was unlike Basante to be slow to interrogate anyone who came within his purview. Whatever had distracted him must be important. Possibly some errand on Dionte’s behalf.

I’ll have to find out.

Tam reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up to see Basante striding eagerly toward him, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Tam, we have her!” he shouted eagerly, grasping Tam’s data display.

“Have who?” Tam pulled his hand away, looking down at the display automatically.

“Look at it!” Basante stabbed his finger at Tam’s display. “It’s Chena Trust.”

Tam looked. There was too much data for the display alone to handle, so his Conscience began whispering in his ear, summarizing statistics and providing descriptions of video clips. Basante had given him a mote camera report, so the data were mostly chemical analyses and percentages. But there were also visual data showing a blurred yet unmistakably human figure crashing through the rain forest with such force and clumsiness it made Tam wince. Basante had spliced all this together with readouts and video clips of Chena Trust, and overlaid that with a running commentary outlining every similarity between the two data sets that he could draw.

He’s been taking lessons in thoroughness from Dionte. Nan Elle had warned him she might be poaching aid against the fever in Offshoot. She had, however, neglected to tell him she would be sending Chena to do the work. Probably because she knew what his reaction would be.

Chena is only free as long as she keeps herself in the clear. There are those inside Alpha Complex who are looking for excuses to bring her back here. If they put her on the project, Elle, I don’t know how long she’ll live.

“We have her,” announced Basante, shaking with excitement. “She’s lost her body right. We can pick her up anytime.”

Tam shook his head. “I don’t agree. These results are inconclusive.” As Chena’s administrator, Tam had the final say regarding any change in the status of her body right.

“I don’t believe this,” murmured Basante. In the next instant, his face bunched up and he shouted, “How can you stand there and ignore these results?”

Around them, family members halted on the paths, and heads turned. An argument between two family members was, of course, everybody’s business, because harmony was everybody’s responsibility.

“Is everything all right, Tam? Basante?”

Tam did not take his eyes off Basante. He just held up his hand. “We’re fine,” he said. “Just a disagreement about some data.” Bas-ante’s face flushed angrily, and Tam felt a twinge of sympathy. Bas-ante had been involved in his own search. None of the other infants produced by the project had measured up. Their fate maps all predicted death from various autoimmune diseases before they reached adolescence if radical intervention was unavailable to them. Tam was ready to believe a great deal about Basante, but he could not fault his dedication and sincerity. The stress and worry wearing him thin were genuine.

That knowledge, however, changed nothing. He was not going to give Basante Chena Trust. He had utterly failed her mother; he would not fail her.