“I’m working on that.” Justin brushed past it, not wanting to admit he had no clue about those connections yet. Sticking his head out the door, he called for Hiroshi.
The Nipponese cop appeared almost instantly, eager to help. “Yes?”
“Is your ego wired into all local law enforcement records? And citizens’ records?”
Hiroshi looked surprised. “Of course. What do you need to know?”
“Citizen records first. I need a summary of genetic scores for all Nipponese births twenty-seven and twenty-eight years ago. No, wait.” Justin reconsidered and changed his request to cover thirty to fifteen years ago. Hiroshi put in the request without question and then had the ego organize the resulting data into a chart. Justin peered at it in triumph.
“There we go. Two eights and a nine in those target years—higher than would be natural for a caste. Then it just drops off into typical numbers.”
It was true. After those years, the scores abruptly returned to average levels. There was one six and no sevens at all. The rest ranged from two to five. No eights or nines.
If Hiroshi was shocked at hearing the word “caste,” he didn’t show it. “What else can I help you with?”
Justin thought about it carefully. “Crime stats from the same date range. Especially pertaining to any illegal bio-research.”
“What are you getting at?” asked Leo as Hiroshi put in the request.
“I think if some shady lab abruptly stopped making their perfect babies twenty-seven years ago, then they probably got busted and shut down,” Justin explained.
“No biogenetic indiscretions in fifty years,” Hiroshi said a minute later, scanning the screen. “And the one on record back then was pretty sloppy.” Most were. Genetic manipulation at conception was a sketchy science that actually rarely yielded good results, which made numbers like this pretty astonishing.
“The lab could’ve operated in any of the other grants or even a plebeian city,” Justin murmured to himself. He stared blankly at Hiroshi’s ego, desperate for some lightning bolt of inspiration. He went back to the original theory. “Any records of suspicious religious activities over the years?”
“I figured you’d already know that,” said the man. “No offense, Dr. March.”
“None taken. Just humor me.”
Hiroshi shrugged and performed the search, finding nothing there either. Justin was on the verge of wrapping things up when an idea occurred to him. “Were there unusual criminal activities of any kind in that time span? Anything at all out of the ordinary that made the police’s radar?”
“That’s a broad request,” Hiroshi said.
“Humor me again.”
This took more time as Hiroshi made the request and then manually skimmed the data to draw his own conclusions. “Nothing.” Then he hesitated. “Nothing here.”
A chill went through Justin. “What do you mean?”
Hiroshi grew pensive. “I remember it. There was a lot of weird stuff outside the grant. Huron, Sioux Falls, some of the other neighboring cities. Some missing-persons cases and a higher-than-usual number of deaths. Most accidental, but a few homicides too. None of it was in our borders, but we had a lot of federal and local investigators coming through.”
Justin had the scent. He could barely contain himself. “How many?”
Hiroshi turned back to his ego. “Twenty-five, spread out over a two-year period—but they’re one off from the two you’re focusing on. Twenty-nine and twenty-eight years ago.” When no response came, he tentatively asked, “Is there something else?”
“No,” said Justin, slowly shaking his head. “You’ve been more than helpful. Thank you.”
When Leo finished up his assessment of the house—finding no definitive answers—he, Justin, and Mae decided to catch dinner in the grant before their flight. That was one perk of visiting land grants. Sure, outsiders often received cold treatment, but if you could suffer through that, the cuisine was outstanding. The three of them found a sushi place that served plebeians, though Justin barely noticed the excellent food. His mind was still trying to find the pattern, to beat sense out of the jumble of data he’d been given.
“So what did you learn today?” Leo asked. “Because I can tell there’s something going on in your head. Our cute waitress smiled at you, and you didn’t even notice.”“I noticed,” said Justin. “And I learned all sorts of things. One is that a bunch of castal eights and nines were born twenty-seven and twenty-eight years ago and that our victims are among them. Twenty-nine and twenty-eight years ago, a bunch of plebeians died near castal borders.”
“And?” asked Mae. “What’s your brilliant deduction?”
Glancing at her, he momentarily lost his train of thought. How did she fit into this? Despite her claims, it seemed too incredible that she couldn’t have some connection to the other victims. Of course, he was missing an awful lot of connections right now and had to admit as much.
“I don’t know. The only thing I’m pretty confident of is that we’re dealing with some pissed-off geneticist. I’m working on the rest.”
He wouldn’t give them any more than that, and after a while, his silence turned them to other topics. In fact, by the end of the meal, Mae and Leo seemed to be on pretty good terms with each other, which was a nice change. Justin’s ego rang just after he paid the bill, and he excused himself from the table when he saw the call was coming from Internal Security. He returned a few minutes later and found Mae and Leo looking remarkably serious as they talked. Both fell silent in that sort of uncomfortable way that indicated they didn’t want him to know what they’d been discussing.
“Everything okay?” Mae asked after several moments.
“Yeah, actually. They brought in Geraki. You want to go meet the most dangerous man in the Republic?”
The predatory look in her eyes was answer enough. Justin didn’t share nearly the same excitement. He didn’t want to talk to Geraki at all. But he had to find out what had prompted the house visit with Tessa, and SCI had said in their call that they probably couldn’t hold Geraki too long. If Justin wanted a shot at talking to that madman, he’d have to do it when they got back to Vancouver. Fortunately, Internal Security’s detainment center had open visiting hours, and he and Mae went straight there after their flight landed, leaving Leo to connect to Portland.
They went down to the building’s lowest floor and waited in an interrogation room while a soldier fetched Geraki. When he was brought in, Mae sized him up with a glance and waved off the soldier’s offer to stay or at least restrain the man. Although Justin and Mae remained standing, Geraki took a chair and leaned back, putting his feet up on the small table. He looked about the same as he had four years ago, except maybe even smugger.
“Dr. March, at last,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to welcoming you home.”
“By intimidating my—family?” Justin supposed Tessa might as well have been.
Geraki made a dismissive gesture. “Bah, I did nothing of the sort. I just had a chat with that girl, who’s adorable by the way. You should adopt more provincial orphans.”
“She’s not an orphan.”
Geraki had already moved on, his gaze settling on Mae. “And you…you really are magnificent.”
Justin was used to Mae’s admirers. It happened a lot in their travels. But as Geraki’s dark eyes swept her, Justin somehow knew it wasn’t her beauty Geraki was complimenting. He was assessing something else in her, something more intangible. He can see it, those powers that come and go, even if they aren’t possessing her right now.
They leave a mark, Magnus confirmed.
Why have you guys been so quiet? Justin asked them. I thought you wanted me to talk to him.
We do. We just don’t like being around the wolves, said Magnus, enigmatic as usual.
Mae was at full alert, her body crackling with tension and power as she looked Geraki squarely in the eye. Justin was suddenly reminded of their first encounter in Panama, when she’d stood by him in the alley, wearing the plum-colored dress and bracing herself for action. She was like that now, coiled and ready to spring if Geraki did anything remotely dangerous. Recalling the exhilaration in her eyes each time she fought, Justin wouldn’t have been surprised if she actually wanted Geraki to attack.
“You’re a lucky man, Dr. March.” Geraki’s awed expression finally shifted to admiration—no, not quite. More like wistfulness. “I have twice as much devotion and not half as many blessings. But I suppose eventually your job will be greater than mine.”
“Tell me more about your devotion,” said Justin amiably. “I’m sure it’s fascinating.” Even as he spoke, he had no delusions that Geraki would actually admit his religious involvement in a room with a surveillance camera.
Geraki chuckled. “Oh, it’s not that different from yours. You and I are both devoted to our causes and ambitions…always confident, always questioning, and guided by the voices in our heads.”
Justin kept his condescending smile in place, refusing to flinch at the last comment. “I don’t hear voices, but again, I’d love for you to tell me about yours.”
“I was referring to my conscience, Dr. March,” Geraki said smoothly. “What else did you think I meant? You shouldn’t take things so literally.”
“My mistake,” said Justin. “Now, can we hurry up and get to why you’re so eager to talk to me? Prætorian Koskinen and I have had a long day.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. Unofficially, I was just curious if you’d learned anything in your time away.” There was a meaningful pause. “Obviously not.”
“Does that mean I’m not your favorite servitor anymore?” Justin gave Mae a brief glance, but nothing had changed since the last time he’d looked at her. She was still tense and ready, her face cool as she stared unblinkingly at Geraki.