CHAPTER 2
TRADE SECRETS
Fiona didn’t seem bothered, worried, or even surprised by what happened to Ephraim during his GEM interview. Her indifference — made all the more obvious by her condition’s robbing her of body language — made ranting impossible to maintain. Ephraim sat, tired of the one-sided argument.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
“We were in this together,” Ephraim said, stung. “You and me.”
“First of all, it’s not that we’re ‘in this together’ so much as I hired you to do a job. You had your motives, and I have mine. Now we’re aligned in that you don’t want to end up in trouble, and I don’t want you to end up in any because I still need you.”
“You need my help,” Ephraim clarified.
Fiona rolled her eyes. “Come on, Ephraim. Let’s not pretend you’re doing this out of loyalty to me or any desire to help.”
It felt like splitting hairs, but that was something Fiona did exceptionally well. A lifetime of depending on others for the simplest tasks had instilled her with a particular breed of pride. The things she was good at (like business and intellect), made her remarkable. They were playing a game of strategy, and it wasn’t surprising that Fiona wanted to make the stakes and lines exceptionally clear.
But as Ephraim met her deep brown eyes, he found her logic almost icy. His brother had died — maybe a long time ago, replaced by the clone Ephraim himself had dispatched — but to Fiona, Jonathan was another piece on the chess board.
He remembered Neven’s accusation: She took out insurance and sent someone to erase you.
But Fiona’s calculating nature didn’t make her automatically untrustworthy. She infuriated him often, but he’d thought about what Neven had said and eventually decided that Fiona was on his side. She hadn’t planted Altruance as his enemy. And for that matter, Altruance was dead, not alive and conspiring with her. Believing anything else (that Fiona was an enemy, that Altruance was alive and an enemy) were the delusions of a madman.
“It doesn’t matter, though,” Fiona continued. “We both want Eden exposed, same as when we started. I know you want revenge for Jonathan — assuming he isn’t alive.”
“He’s dead. I can feel it. I don’t know if Connolly or Neven—
(or you)
—killed him, but I feel his murder in my gut.”
Ephraim blinked at Fiona. He imagined her dead limbs throttling the real Jonathan’s throat. There was a flash of irrational anger. And then it was gone.
Fiona seemed to consider, disagree, then finally decide not to argue. If Ephraim wanted to feign omniscience, Fiona seemed willing to let him.
“GEM told me they didn’t have the MyLife. That’s why they didn’t believe me.”
Fiona met Ephraim’s eyes. After several seconds, she said, “I know.”
“What do you mean, you know?”
“MyLife doesn’t want memories copied, Ephraim. Pulling information from one of their devices is extremely difficult. Nobody would want implantable tech if they thought it made their lives any less private, so the encryption and copy protection is nearly unbreakable. Imagine the black market on memories. The boyfriends and husbands of hot starlets would carry their lives in their hands. Records of their sex lives with the world’s most desired people would be worth millions. You can’t just plug a MyLife in and copy it like a slip drive. I need what’s on Jonathan’s, and for it to not self-destruct during decryption. It’s painstaking work, and what’s there is confidential. I couldn’t hand it off.”
Ephraim blubbered. He couldn’t possibly be hearing this.
“Wait. You did this on purpose? You told me you gave the MyLife to GEM, but you never did?”
“I thought I’d be finished with it by now,” Fiona said, matter-of-factly. “I was wrong.”
Ephraim shot to his feet. He felt his face go red. “We had an agreement! The whole world already thinks I burned Eden down, and now GEM won’t clear my name because you won’t give them proof that I’m innocent? Because you wanted the fucking MyLife for … for …!”
“The agreement was for a trade!” Fiona snapped. “You were supposed to get me the information I needed, and in turn, I promised to get you onto Eden so you could find your brother. There was never any discussion of GEM, or of me surrendering my half of the bargain to make you look better.”
“Look better? They’re going to arrest me!”
“Nobody’s going to arrest you. GEM doesn’t have the authority.”
“But others do, and once they decide to—”
“Relax. It won’t go that far.”
Ephraim forced himself to take a big breath. He faced Fiona, finding her maddeningly calm and assured like always.
“They think it was all my fault, Fiona.”
“Who?”
“Everyone. You should see the looks I get, just walking down the streets. Everyone thinks Eden was paradise and Wallace Connolly was a saint.”
Fiona watched him with a mild expression on her face.
“Promise me you’ll give it to them, Fiona. Soon.”
She answered obliquely. “In time. But it doesn’t matter. They can’t crack it. Not without cooperation from the FBI and either the MyLife owner’s consent — which I don’t think they’re going to get — or a warrant. Red tape on seizing mental property is miles long, and you’d need a room full of NextGen processors to decrypt it without Jonathan’s key.”
“So what good is it to you?”
“I own Riverbed, Ephraim. I have a room full of NextGen processors, and I don’t require red tape.”
Fiona eyed him like the matter was settled, but Ephraim wasn’t ready to surrender. “Then invite them in. You crack it, then show them what’s on it.”
“Not until I can remove what I need. I won’t show it to GEM until certain sectors can be copied and erased. It’s full of trade secrets.”
“Eden’s trade secrets.”
“That I paid for,” Fiona countered. “Handsomely.”
There was another long moment, but Ephraim knew he was outmatched.
“You don’t need to convince anyone you’re telling the truth just yet; you just need to keep GEM off your back,” Fiona said. “Let the wider world hate you if they need to. Half the world hates me. It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”
“How am I supposed to keep GEM off my back without the proof on that MyLife?”
“The man they want you to meet with, Hershel Wood? He’s the head of GEM. It’s a cushy job that gives him far more discretionary power than any one person should have. He, by himself, is like the UN of genetic law. Win Hershel Wood over, and the rest is easy.”
“Again,” Ephraim said, “how?”
“Oversight Chair is an elected position. He had to campaign for it, and I was his biggest contributor by far. Frankly, he owes me. You’ll need to meet with Wood, but I’ll talk to him first. Consider it handled. Better?”
No, it wasn’t better. But Ephraim nodded anyway.
“Do you believe me?”
Nodding again took an extra second. The MyLife debacle had punched him in the face. Believing and trusting were difficult after such an overt betrayal.
Fiona put her lips to the steering wand and rotated her wheelchair to follow Ephraim as he reached the windows, looking out.
“I know how I can help myself, even if you won’t,” he said.
Fiona didn’t bite at the jab. Instead, she said, “How?”
“There must be clones out in the world. They couldn’t all have burned on Eden. I’ll find one that’s already been sold. Or I'll find whoever’s selling them.”
Fiona laughed. “And how are you going to do that? Type ‘celebrity sex clone’ into Google and see what comes up?”
“I know they exist. That’s a head start. I know about Neven and Islet 09. I know a bit about how the process works and how long it takes. I heard names mentioned on Eden.” He nodded, knowing he was only trying to convince himself. Then, forcing certainty, he said, “I can find them.”
“Ephraim …”
“I can’t just let it go and wait for you to decide to help me,” he said, sensing the usual argument. “Sophie is sure that all of her clones were destroyed when Eden burned, but I’m not. I told you; I saw a Young Sophie and Young Altruance, and their level of ‘programming’ or ‘brain transfer’ or whatever damn near fooled me. Sophie’s a hot property. I’ll bet they fast-tracked her clones. Sent a few off-island right away.”
“You don’t know that,” Fiona said.
“I don’t. But I suspect, and I plan to look. Because if they’re out there — if someone is selling Sophie clones without her knowing, she’d—”
“Sophie doesn’t need your help. She doesn’t want your help. I heard she’s refused GEM’s requests to come in and help you.”
That stung. Ephraim and Sophie had talked a lot at first, but as time passed they’d transitioned to talking not at all. Ephraim thought he knew what was happening. Sophie was trying to forget. She was trying to believe the lie. It was easier than the truth — especially since the whole world believed otherwise and there wasn’t any proof to contradict it.
If Sophie convinces herself that it never happened, then she’ll decide I’m the bad guy.
“Come over here,” Fiona said, her wheelchair whirring away behind him. “I have something to show you.”