Master wu, p.13
Master Wu, page 13
“Do you know why you are in this prison?”
Ranovich nodded. “They say I killed the doctor guy that was doing the tests. I don’t remember.”
“Would you consider one more test? If it comes out right, you just might get out of here. Interested?”
He shrugged. “Sure. I guess. I have nothing to lose, so why not. If I killed someone, I do not remember.”
Jayne stood. “I will arrange it and get back to you after the results.”
Her mind was scrambling to make sense of what might have happened if this was not Thurston. If Ranovich was back in his own body, then where the frack was Thurston? He must have figured that his days were numbered as long as he stayed in the body. He had lied about not keeping a backup of Ranovich. He may have transferred a five-year-old recording of Ranovich back inside his own body and planted him so he would be captured. This all meant that William Thurston was in some new body because his own body had long since rotted away. The Sentinels had fallen for his little charade.
If this scenario was true, he was out there… as someone else.
She was about to leave when Ranovich spoke. “Have we met before? I feel that I have met you before. A long time ago.”
Jayne turned and looked back at him. She said nothing.
“Sorry, I just thought we might have met.”
“Just think of me as a fixer who might get you out of here. Is that alright?” Jayne felt guilty. If this was not Thurston, then she had to make sure he was freed and even informed as to what had happened to him. At least she hoped she could make that happen. She was, after all, head of the Greenway Group. That ought to be enough to get an innocent young man out of prison. She stepped on the PUT and headed back to Winter’s estate. She was still not clear about all she had inherited.
Once in her office, she called Underhill. She needed someone to test Ranovich and determine if he was a mentally younger version of himself. That was priority one. If he was Ranovich, then Thurston was still out there, and that was dangerous for Jayne. He could be anyone. She reflected on the fact that he had returned Ranovich to his own body. That meant he had kept a recording of Ranovich without telling the old Winter. It was increasingly obvious that Thurston had done a lot of things he had not shared with the old woman. He also had the recording of Winter that he had tried twice to write into Jayne’s brain. If he thought that she was back in her own body, he might be searching for someone else as a receptacle for Winter’s mind. Both of her enemies might still be plotting against her and this time they would not care about her physical health. They might want her dead. No, that was not accurate. They would definitely want her dead. No might about it. How could she continue the charade of being Winter Bancroft if the real Winter was about to reappear?
There was a tap on her office door and Underhill entered. “Yes, miss?”
“I need you to find me someone who might be able to determine if someone is actually who they claim to be and is not faking it. The subject is a prisoner. I need this done asap. Can you arrange this for me?
“I will need the particulars, but I am sure I can arrange it. Anything else?”
Jayne stared at Underhill. The thought occurred that this veteran employee of Winter might be something other than what she claimed. The woman had left some hints. She had suspicions that Winter had changed to the point that she might not be herself. Jayne wondered again if Underhill might fill Jayne’s need for a trusted confidante.
Could she inform the woman that she was not Winter?
After a pause, Jayne spoke softly. “Doris, how are things with you? I was wondering if you have friends or relations?”
Underhill tilted her head to the side and looked at Jayne. Her eyebrows scrunched. “Permission to speak freely, Miss Winter?”
Jayne nodded her head, knowing her questions had started something she would have to finish.
“Well, first I want you to know how much I like working here. It is better than it has ever been. Second, you need to know that… well… you have changed.” Doris rushed on. “You have changed so much that I don’t think it is you. I don’t think there is anything left of the old Winter Bancroft in here.” Doris reached out and tapped Jayne on the side of the head.
“Sit down, Doris,” commanded Jayne.
“I’m sorry. Have I overstepped?”
Jayne ignored the question. “What would you do if the old Winter was gone? Gone forever?”
“Nothing, if this is the new Winter. I have enjoyed working for you more these last few months. Ever since Doctor Thurston put you in this new body, you have been, well, pleasant. But sometimes you do not remember a lot of what the old Winter knew. I just assumed that was a symptom of the process.”
“Yes, I suppose it might be. Please help me when I mess up. I assume the old Winter knew about your friends and relations, so when I asked, you were surprised I did not remember.”
“Yes, I was.” She stopped and stared intently at Jayne. “There is one more thing I would like to know, but only if you feel able to tell me.”
“What is it?”
“Whose body is this? Doctor Thurston suggested that the original owner of this young body suffered from a serious mental disorder and in her misguided attempt to cure herself, she had practically destroyed her mind. He fixed her body but was unsuccessful with her mind, so he decided you could utilize the body by implanting your mind. Is that accurate?”
“Yes, it is,” said Jayne, deciding on the fly that Doris was not a spy and had solved her problem. “It also seems that part of her personality has affected mine.”
“Yes, I agree. Thank you for trusting me.”
“I also need you to know that Doctor Thurston is no longer welcome here. He has demonstrated several psychotic traits ever since he took over that new body. I do not trust him and believe he wants to do me harm. Please inform security that he is to be apprehended if he ever sets foot in this house. Are you clear on this?” Jayne realized that the Thurston-Ranovich Doris knew could never appear. He was in prison. “Amend that—all strangers wishing access must be vetted by me.”
“Yes, miss. I will inform security and make the required changes to the protocols.”
“Now, tell me more about this garden party that I have been invited to.”
“Well, the guest lists were not easy to come by. I was told that they were private. I finally pulled some strings and came up with a few of the repeat guests. They are the who’s who of SoCal’s political elite, with a generous smattering of scientists from the private research groups. I have taken the liberty of sending the list to your VID. Each name has a details section telling you a little more about them. If you want me to research anyone in-depth, please let me know.” She paused and looked at Jayne quizzically. “I assume you want to go. The invite included a plus-one—you can bring a date or a friend. Any ideas who you might like to take?”
A huge involuntary smile filled Jayne’s face. An image of Spike filled her mind. “Yes, I do and yes, I do,” she said with a grin. “I met a retired GravBall player while I was at the arena. I will ask him and let you know.”
Underhill turned to the exit. “I have chores. I liked talking to you and getting some of our concerns out in the open.”
She left Jayne’s office and Jayne rested her head on her hands. She hoped Spike would agree to the little plan that was hatching in her head.
CHAPTER 17
The Garden Party
Consolidation of information was crucial to the functioning of the World Government. Data storage and access became one of the most important tools in the new world order. New tech was required to ensure that the information was accurate. The adage of ‘garbage in, garbage out’ needed to be addressed in a way that would ensure proper decision-making. A series of Super Qs were given the job of ensuring that the information in the data vaults did not conflict. It was soon realized that this was not a onetime job but a continuous process of scanning, comparing, analyzing, and correcting to ensure accuracy. Inaccurate data was not destroyed. It was simply not used for decision-making, but it was continuously compared to ensure that something else did not alter its accuracy. These unconfirmed data vaults held potential gems that might expose previously hidden activities. It was here that data from many underground genetic experiments were stored.
It took some convincing, but Spike finally agreed to be Jayne’s plus one at the garden party. What convinced him was the idea that he could play up his GravBall persona. He had played in the pros, but his career was shortened by injury. That was the spin. Spike had worked undercover for the Sentinels to expose player manipulation by the company team owners. His last gig had been as a Bloc Hed addict. Since then, he had become a part of the Greenway Group.
Pincet had assigned him to explore the data cubes left behind by defunct genetic manipulation firms. He was searching for anyone who might have been created and/or altered when they were in the zygotic stage of their life. The objective of these companies was to build more evolved humans. They were the prime candidates to be buying and selling the mind transfer tech that Thurston and others strove to develop. The hope was that investigating these people might lead to anyone who was snatching bodies for mind transfers. There were several possibilities in the data, but finding the actual people was proving to be very difficult. The links between the IDs of the zygotes and the babies born in the nurseries had been deliberately obscured.
Spike arrived at Winter’s estate the morning of the garden party. Jayne’s eyes bulged when she saw him. He was wearing one of the latest styles of suits. The bottom edge of the jacket on the left and right came to a sharp point. The pant hems also terminated to a point on the outside so that it almost touched the floor. He had maintained a bald pate.
“Why don’t you have that little ponytail anymore?” asked Jayne.
“I grew up,” Spike responded blandly.
“That suit contradicts that statement. Where did you get it?”
“It is the latest and part of my character. I think I look pretty cranky. What do you think?” he asked as he turned in a circle.
“I think you look like a cocky GravBall player who thinks a little too much of himself. Which is perfect. Everyone will be looking at you and not paying any attention to me.”
“That is unlikely. You are pretty hard to ignore. You realize that you are attractive, sexy even, especially if you wear something other than a uniform.”
Jayne looked down at herself. She was wearing her Sergio Partelli in default mode, mainly because she was too lazy to change it into anything else. It looked like a tan uniform without any insignia of any type. It did, however, fit her new buff body perfectly. “I have not given any thought to what I might wear. Any recommendations?”
Spike laughed. “If you think I am stupid enough to suggest what a beautiful young woman like you might wear, you are crazy.”
Jayne felt her face flood with the heat of embarrassment. She couldn’t even make eye contact with Spike. She turned away from him to hide her face. “It is a garden party. I will figure something out.”
She headed out of the foyer and called over her shoulder, “Head out to the garden gazebo and I will meet you there shortly.”
In her room, Underhill was waiting with a choice of outfits. She held one out in front of Jayne, who looked at it without really seeing it. She had made up her mind. She was going to wear Sergio as some sort of uniform, and she did not care what. She was still fixated on Spike’s comment, beautiful young woman. Her face flushed again.
“No,” she said flatly.
“No, what?” responded Underhill.
“No, I am not wearing that or any of those,” she said, gesturing at the other outfits on the bed.
Underhill dropped the outfit she had in her arms. “What kind of impression do you want to make?”
Jayne stared at her. She had not given any thought to impressions, much less what clothing had to do with them. She had never been to a garden party in her whole life.
Underhill continued, “I assume you want to become a part of the group assigned to Biome 13. You are certainly qualified, and that body is young enough to get a permanent seat. I’ve learned they intend on leaving at least 50 years before the Swarm hits. You will still be a young woman. This party will certainly have several selection committee members present. A first, good impression will be crucial. They would be lucky to get a neurobiologist of your calibre. And don’t kid yourself; these people, at the very least, will suspect who you are. You won’t have to pretend to act like your own great grandniece. In fact, I recommend that you don’t. Act like the real Winter. Make them feel inadequate. Make them feel that they want you. Hell, make them feel they need you.”
Jayne stared at Underhill. She was knowledgeable about the people running Biome 13 but did not see them for the monsters they really were. “What do you suggest I wear?”
Underhill reached down and picked up the outfit she originally held in her hands. “This. SoCal weather will be warm today. This little frock is…” she paused. “What is the latest phrase for something in style?” and then she answered her own question, “Oh yes, cranky. It is cranky.” She laughed. “Oh, and these are back in.” She picked up a pair of shoes and held them out. They were bright red high-heeled pumps. “Don’t you just love them?” She held them up near Jayne’s face. “They will look fantastic with your skin color.”
Jayne said nothing. She resigned herself to whatever Underhill recommended. When she tried to walk in the shoes, though, she nearly fell over.
“How does anyone walk in these?” asked Jayne, and then she quickly qualified her question. “I haven’t worn heels for a very long time. I will need to give this new body some practice.”
She practiced for ten minutes until she no longer wobbled when she walked.
The trip to the party was by shuttle. Jayne found it odd that there were no PUT pads that terminated on or even near the property. The shuttle dropped them off at a large metal front gate and they walked past a series of security men and up to the front door. They were requested to log their VIDs as identification and were then led down a long hallway that ended in a large room with glass walls on three sides. Through the glass, they could see out into a beautiful garden with flower beds and ponds and ornamental rockeries. In various pods of chairs and sofas were the other guests. Jayne noticed that they were all quite old. If you were 70 years old in this room, you could be considered young. Jayne was practically a baby. What was odder still was that, despite their years, most of the people seemed to be very healthy—spry even. The only thing that gave away their true age was their stature. It was hard to improve on old bones. As Jayne and Spike approached a pod of furniture, she smiled and looked into bright young eyes in old faces. Her stomach flipped a bit, but she didn’t let her disgust show. Jayne was sure there were also many replacement parts she could not see. Body part replacement had become a way of life for those with unlimited credits. Where those parts came from didn’t matter to these people.
“Would you like something to drink?” said Spike as he moved toward the bar on the far side of the room.
“Soda,” said Jayne, and she turned back to the group.
A woman stood as Jayne approached. She ran up to Jayne, grabbed her hands and held her at arm’s length. She gushed, “Let me look at you. Winter, you are stunning. You must tell me how it feels. I was talking to Evan Michelson last week. He was telling me about the horrible encounter with those T-Rex people. He was with this young woman who could be his great grandniece. He said it was Grace. But I knew Grace, and she was not her. She did not even remember who I was. Can you imagine that? We were friends for 80 years and she couldn’t remember me. I think he is trying to be the big shot by making people think he can do what you and William did. Where is William, by the way? Is that him?” She gestured to Spike.
Jayne’s mind went to the list of potential invitees and found an image of this woman. She was married to the prolocutor of Biome 13. At least that is what it said on the mental page in her head. She was not sure what a prolocutor did, but she assumed he was a CEO of some sort. She also found their names. This woman was Francine Grant and her husband’s name was Pierce.
Jayne glanced up at Spike. She shook her head. “No, that is not William. We had a bit of a falling out,” said Jayne, slipping into Winter’s speech patterns. “I just met that young man the other day. He is some sort of GravBall star. At least, that’s what he told me.” Jayne giggled and touched the woman’s arm. “Oh, Franny, I keep forgetting his name. I think it is Spear or Nail or…” She touched her index finger to her bottom lip and pulled it down rather seductively. “Oh yes, it is Spike. Isn’t he just the—”
“Yes, Win, I know what he is, you lucky—”
She was interrupted by a very tall, slightly stooped, older man. He came up behind Francine and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Who is this young woman?”
“It is Winter, dear.”
Pierce looked at Jayne and his eyes betrayed an immediate suspicion. “Winter Bancroft. Neurobiologist? According to William Thurston, you died three years ago.”
Jayne did a quick scan of all Winter’s old memories she had saved in a kind of quarantine in her head. She found Pierce. The images that went along with the name made her bite her bottom lip. These images held no attached emotions. Jayne knew her reaction to the images was not what Winter’s reactions were at the time or even at this moment. Winter had had a relationship with Pierce that Francine knew nothing about. She pushed the rather bizarre pictures back to their place in her mind. She looked up at Pierce and smiled. “Pierce. It’s been a long time. No, I am no longer dead. I have been resurrected, as it were.”
The suspicion had not left the old man’s young eyes. “Yes, it has been a long time. When was the last time we saw each other? Oh, yes, I remember. Do you?”
Jayne turned back to Francine. “He doesn’t believe it is me. I don’t blame him. If I was old and a beautiful young man came up to me and claimed to be an old friend in a new body, I would be suspicious too.”
