The Mammoth Book of Best New Science Fiction 22nd Annual Collection (48 page)

“Of course I care.”

“Enough to trade away everything and earn her safety?”

Joe said nothing.

“I’ve studied your files, Joseph. I have read the personality evaluations, and I know all about your corporate security work, and even all those wicked sealed records covering the last three years. It is a most impressive career. But nothing about you, sir – nothing in your nature or your history – strikes me as being sentimental. And I cannot believe that this girl matters enough to convince you to make this exchange.”

Joe smiled. “Then why did I come here?”

“That’s my question too.”

Joe waited for a moment, then suggested, “Maybe it’s money?”

“Psychopaths always have a price,” Markel replied. “Yes, I guessed as it would be something on those lines.”

Joe reached into his shirt pocket. The vial was diamond, smaller than a pen and only halfway filled with what looked to be a plain white powder. But embossed along the vial’s length were the ominous words: NATURAL KILLER.

“How much do you want for my baby, Joseph?”

“Everything,” he said.

“And what does that mean?”

“All the money.”

“My wealth? Is that what you’re asking for?”

“I’m not asking,” Joe said. “Don’t be confused, Markel. This is not a negotiation. I am demanding that you and your backers give me every last cent in your coffers. And if not, I will ruin everything that you’ve worked to achieve. You sons-of-bitches.”

Markel had been born
sapien
and gifted, and his minimal and very secret steps to leave his species behind had served to increase both his mind and his capacity for arrogance. But he was stunned to hear the ultimatum. To make such outrageous demands, and in these circumstances! He couldn’t imagine anybody with that much gall. Standing quite still, his long arms at his side, Markel tried to understand why an unarmed man in these desperate circumstances would have any power over him. What wasn’t he seeing? No reinforcements were coming; he was certain of that. Outside this tiny circle, nobody knew anything. This
sapien
was bluffing, Markel decided. And with that, he began to breathe again, and he relaxed, announcing, “You’re right, this is not a negotiation. And I’m telling you no.”

Inside the same shirt pocket was a child’s toy – a completely harmless lump of luminescent putty stolen from the zoo’s museum. Joe shoved the vial into the bright red plaything, and before Markel could react, he flung both the putty and vial high into the air.

Every eye watched that ruddy patch of light twirl and soften, and then plunge back to the earth.

Beside the plaza was a deep acid-filled moat flanked by a pair of high fences, electrified and bristling with sensors. And on the far side were woods and darkness, plus the single example of a brand new species designed to bring huge crowds through the zoo’s front gate.

The Grendel.

“You should not have done that,” Markel said with low, furious voice. “I’ll just have you killed now and be done with you.”

Joe smiled, lifting his empty hands over his head. “Maybe you should kill me. If you’re so positive that you can get your precious KILLER back.”

That’s when Joe laughed at the brilliant bastard.

But it was the girl who reacted first, squirming out of the Brilliance-Boy’s hands to run straight for her lover.

No one bothered to chase her down.

She stopped short and slapped Joe.

“You idiot,” she spat.

He answered her with a tidy left hook.

Then one of the big soldiers shot a tacky round into Joe’s chest, pumping in enough current to drop him on the wet bricks, leaving him hovering between consciousness and white-hot misery.

“You idiot.”

The girl repeated herself several times, occasionally adding a dismissive, “Moron”, or “Fool”, to her invectives. Then as the electricity diminished, she leaned close to his face. “Don’t you understand? We were never going to use the bug. We don’t want to let it loose. It’s just one more way to help make sure you
sapiens
won’t declare war on us. Natural Killer is our insurance policy, and that’s it.”

The pain diminished to a lasting ache.

Wincing, Joe struggled to sit up. While he was down, smart-cuffs had wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles. The two soldiers and the Brilliance-Boy were standing before the Grendel’s large enclosure. They had donned night-goggles and were studying the schematics of the zoo, tense voices discussing how best to slip into the cage and recover the prize.

“Joe,” she said, “how can you be this stupid?”

“Comes naturally, I guess.”

To the eye, the girl was beautiful and purely
sapien
. The long black hair and rich brown skin sparkled in the plaza’s light. The word “natural” was a mild insult among the Rebirths. She sat up, lips pouting. Like Markel, the young woman must have endured some minimal rearrangement of her genetics. Usually these new humans carried extra pairs of chromosomes. But despite rumours that some of the Rebirths were hiding among the naturals, this was the first time Joe had knowingly crossed paths with them.

“I am stupid,” he admitted. Then he looked at Markel, adding, “Both of you had me fooled. All along.”

That was a lie, but Markel had to smile. Of course he was clever, and of course no one suspected the truth. Behind that grim old face was enough self-esteem to keep him believing that he would survive the night.

The idiot.

Markel and his beautiful assistant glanced at each other.

Then the Brilliance-Boy called out. “We’ll use the service entrance to get in,” he announced. “Five minutes to circumvent locks and cameras, I should think.”

“Do it,” Markel told them.

“You’ll be all right here?”

The scientist lifted a pistol over his head. “We’re fine. Just go. Get my child out of that cage, now!”

That left three people on the plaza, plus the monster locked inside the slowly revolving crystal egg.

“The plague is just an insurance policy, huh?”

Joe threw out the question, and waited.

After a minute, the girl said, “To protect us from people like you, yes.”

He put on an injured expression. “Like me? What’s that mean?”

She glanced at Markel. Then with a cold voice, she said, “He showed me your history, Joe. After our first night together . . .”

“And what did it tell you?”

“When you were on the Demon Dandy, you saved yourself by leaving a Rebirth behind. And you did it in a cold, calculating way.”

He shrugged, smiled. “What else?”

“After joining the security arm of the corporation, you distinguished yourself as a soldier. Then you went to work for the UN, as a contractor, and your expertise has been assassinations.”

“Bad men should be killed,” Joe said flatly. “Evil should be removed from the world. Get the average person to be honest, and he’ll admit that he won’t lose any sleep, particularly if the monster is killed with a single clean shot.”

“You are horrible,” she maintained.

“If I’m so horrible,” said Joe, “then do the world a favour. Shoot me in the head.”

She began to reach behind her back, then thought better of it.

Markel glanced at both of them, pulling his weapon closer to his body. But nothing seemed urgent, and he returned to keeping watch over the Grendel’s enclosure.

“I suppose you noticed,” Joe began.

The girl blinked. “Noticed what?”

“In my career, I’ve killed a respectable number of Rebirths.”

The dark eyes stared at him. Then very quietly, with sarcasm, she said, “I suppose they were all bad people.”

“Drug lords and terrorists, or hired guns in the service of either.” Joe shook his head, saying, “Legal murder is easy. Clean, clear-cut. A whole lot more pleasant than the last few weeks have been, I’ll admit.”

Markel looked at him. “I am curious, Joseph. Who decided you were the ideal person to investigate our little laboratory?”

“You don’t have a little lab,” said Joe. “There aren’t ten or twelve better-equipped facilities when it comes to high-end genetic research.”

“There aren’t even twelve,” the man said, bristling slightly. “Perhaps two or three.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have found this item in any official file,” Joe said. “But a couple months ago, I was leading a team that hit a terror-cell in Alberta. Under interrogation, the Rebirth boss started making threats about unleashing something called Natural Killer on us. On the poor helpless
sapiens
. He claimed that we’d be wiped out of existence, and the new species could then take over. Which is their right, he claimed, and as inevitable as the next sunrise.”

His audience exchanged looks.

“But that hardly explains how you found your way to me,” Markel pointed out.

“There was a trail. Bloody in places, but every corpse pointing in your general direction.”

Markel almost spoke. But then came the creak of a heavy door being opened. Somewhere in the back of the Grendel’s enclosure, three pairs of goggled eyes were peering out into the jungle and shadow.

“It’s an amazing disease,” Joe stated. “Natural Killer is.”

“Quiet,” Markel warned.

But the girl couldn’t contain herself. She bent low, whispering, “It is,” while trying to burn him with her hateful smile.

“The virus targets old, outmoded stretches of the human genome,” Joe continued. “From what I can tell – and I’m no expert in biology, of course – but your extra genes guarantee you wouldn’t get anything worse than some wicked flu symptoms out of the bug. Is that about right?”

“A tailored pox phage,” she said. “Rapidly mutating, but always fatal to
sapiens
genome.”

“So who dreamed up the name?” Joe glanced at Markel and then winked at her. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

She sat back, grinning.

“And it’s going to save you? From bastards like me, is it?”

“You won’t dare lift a hand against us,” she told Joe. “As soon as you realize we have this weapon, and that it could conceivably wipe your entire species off the face of the earth . . .”

“Smart,” he agreed. “Very smart.”

From the Grendel enclosure came the sharp soft noise of a gun firing. One quick burst and then two single shots from the same weapon. Then, silence.

Markel lifted his pistol reflexively.

“So when do you Rebirths make your official announcement?” Joe asked. “And how do you handle this kind of event? Hold a news conference? Unless you decide on a demonstration, I suppose. You know, murder an isolated village, or devastate one of the orbital communities. Just to prove to the idiots in the world that you can deliver on your threats.”

A voice called from the enclosure.

“I have it,” one of the soldiers shouted.

Joe turned in time to see the reddish glow rise off the ground, partly obscured by the strong hand holding it. But as the arm cocked, ready to throw the prize back into the plaza, there was a grunt, almost too soft to be heard. A terrific amount of violence occurred in an instant, without fuss. Then the red glow appeared on a different portion of the jungle floor, and the only sound was the slow lapping of a broad happy tongue.

Markel cursed.

The girl stood up and looked.

Markel called out a name, and nobody answered. And then somebody else fired their weapon in a spray pattern, cutting vegetation and battering the high fence on the far side of the moat.

“I killed it,” the second soldier declared. “I’m sure.”

The Brilliance-Boy offered a few cautionary words.

“I do feel exceptionally stupid,” Joe said. “Tell me again: why exactly do you need Natural Killer?”

The girl stared at him and then stepped back.

“I didn’t know we were waging a real war against you people,” he continued. “I guess we keep that a secret, what with our political tricks and PR campaigns. Like when we grant you full citizenship. And the way we force you to accept the costs and benefits of all the laws granted to human beings everywhere —”

“You hate us,” she interrupted. “You despise every last one of us.”

Quietly, Joe assured her, “You don’t know what I hate.”

She stiffened, saying nothing.

“This is the situation. As I see it.” Joe paused for a moment. “Inside that one vial, you have a bug that could wipe out your alleged enemies. And by enemies, I mean people that look at you with suspicion and fear. You intend to keep your doomsday disease at the ready, just in case you need it.”

“Of course.”

“Except you’ll have to eventually grow more of it. If you want to keep it as a credible, immediate threat. And you’ll have to divide your stocks and store them in scattered, secure locations. Otherwise assholes like me are going to throw the bugs in a pile and burn it all with a torch.”

She watched Joe, her sore jaw clamped tight.

“But having stockpiles of Natural Killer brings a different set of problems. Who can trust who not to use it without permission? And the longer this virus exists, the better the chance that the Normals will find effective fixes to keep themselves safe. Vaccines. Quarantine laws. Whatever we need to weather the plague, and of course, give us our chance to take our revenge afterwards.”

The red glow had not moved. For a full minute, the little jungle had been perfectly, ominously silent.

Markel glanced at Joe and then back at the high fence. He was obviously fighting the urge to shout warnings to the others. That could alert the Grendel. But it took all his will to do nothing.

“You have a great, great weapon,” Joe allowed. “But your advantage won’t last.”

The girl was breathing faster now.

“You know what would be smart? Before the Normals grow aware of your power, you should release the virus. No warnings, no explanations. Do it before we know what hit us, and hope you kill enough of us in the first week that you can permanently gain the upper hand.”

“No,” Markel said, taking two steps toward the enclosure. “We don’t have more than a sample of the virus, and it is just a virus.”

“Meaning what?”

“Diseases are like wildfires,” he explained. “You watch them burn, and you can’t believe that anything would survive the blaze. But afterwards there are always islands of green surrounded by scorched forest.” The man had given this considerable thought. “Three or four billion
sapiens
might succumb. But that would still leave us in the minority, and your vengeance would be horrible and probably fatal.”