FORTY-SEVEN

The meeting was held at Sydney University.

It was a Sunday evening, so everything was very quiet. The grounds were largely unoccupied, save for the occasional lone pedestrian. The library was shut, and the quadrangle deserted. The long, dingy corridors were empty, and most of the doors that lined them were locked.

But one small corner of the History Department was filling up slowly. As the shorter hand on the tower clock crept toward five, a few people began to arrive at a top-floor seminar room. Some used the ancient, creaky lift; others slowly ascended the stairs, their voices and footsteps echoing off shiny linoleum. All of them converged on the numbered door behind which Saul Greeniaus was standing, next to a silent, gray-haired, flinty-faced man in a three-piece suit.

This man was introduced to Cadel as Garth Renmark. "Mr. Renmark will be signing off on our project," Saul muttered vaguely, leaving Cadel none the wiser as to Garth's actual job. But it was apparent, from Saul's edgy and watchful demeanor, that Garth was either a very senior police officer or a government official.

Cadel decided that the Audi parked near the downstairs entrance probably belonged to Garth.

Cadel himself had come in his lawyer's car, along with Fiona Currey and the surveillance team. Mel Hofmeier, Cadel's lawyer, was a fat, untidy, middle-aged troll of a man, with the face of a wise old frog. His clothes were all custom-made; he wore platinum cuff links and a gold signet ring, and the look in his pouchy eyes suggested that nothing on earth would ever surprise him. When Cadel saw Garth Renmark, he was very glad that Mel had decided to attend the meeting. Because even someone as formidable as Garth couldn't intimidate Mel Hofmeier.

After exchanging names and handshakes, Mel and Saul and Garth made a few desultory comments about the large, shabby seminar room in which they were gathered. This room was painted a dispiriting shade of buff. It contained a battered collection of furniture made of steel and plastic and melamine, together with an empty bulletin board and an oil heater. The room had been Saul's choice, selected because it was central and private.

"Hotels these days are like sieves," he remarked, in reply to a question from Garth. "And people might notice a bunch of kids heading into an office block."

Garth sniffed. He didn't give the impression of being someone who spent much of his precious time sitting on plastic chairs under flickering fluorescent lights. Perhaps he was offended that no one had thought to serve him drinks or canapés.

The next arrivals were Hamish Primrose and his parents. His mother was plump and flustered, while his father was skinny and severe; they sidled in apologetically, looking confused. Standing between them, dressed in a blue blazer and tie, Hamish had the appearance of a prisoner under escort. He was almost unrecognizable without his leather jacket and biker's boots.

When he spotted Cadel, his mouth fell open—exposing a wad of gray chewing gum.

"Hello, Hamish," said Cadel. To which Hamish replied, "Wow. You are here."

"Yeah. I'm here."

"I heard you were locked up in the hospital or something. I heard they wouldn't let you out."

"Who said that?"

"I dunno." Hamish shrugged. "Lawyers. Lexi."

"Have you seen Lexi?"

"I saw her the other day. She told me Prosper English tried to kill you. That's why you were locked up."

"No." Cadel shifted uncomfortably, glancing over to where Fiona and Mrs. Primrose were deep in conversation. "No one's tried to kill anyone."

"She said Prosper threw acid in your face," Hamish scoffed. "She's so full of it."

As if on cue, Lexi herself appeared at the door, closely followed by Devin and a pair of total strangers. Cadel never discovered the names of these two female attendants, because he was instantly swept up in a noisy reunion with Lexi Wieneke. She bounded across the room toward him, threw her arms around his neck, and planted a series of smacking kisses all over his forehead.

"Thank god you're all right!" she exclaimed shrilly, pressing her cheek against his. "I thought he was going to kill you!"

"What was all that crap about an acid attack?" Hamish demanded, as Cadel tried to extricate himself from Lexi's embrace. "I don't see any scars on him, do you?"

"I never mentioned an acid attack," she said, rubbing purple lipstick off Cadel's temple. Hamish scowled.

"You did, too!" he insisted, and appealed to Devin. "You were there! She told us Prosper English threw acid in his face!"

"Oh, I never bloody listen to her," Devin said. He was skulking uneasily against one wall, as if all the suits in the room were making him nervous. Unlike Hamish, he had retained his Clearview House clothes: namely his beanie, sweatshirt, anorak, and camouflage pants.

Lexi's outfit was also familiar to Cadel, who had once rejected the black net tank top that she was wearing, when it was offered to him as a disguise.

"You weren't listening," Lexi informed Hamish. "What I said was that I'd kill anyone who did throw acid at him." She was enormously difficult to repel; Cadel had no sooner peeled one of her sweaty hands off his chin than she had clamped the other over his ear. "It would be a crime against humanity to ruin this face. Like blowing up the Mona Lisa, or something."

Then Fiona approached them, and the conversation became more stilted. It was difficult to forget that during her previous encounters with the inhabitants of Clearview House, Fiona had been thoroughly hoodwinked. Hamish seemed very conscious of this fact; he stared at the floor and mumbled. Devin glowered. Lexi took one look at Fiona's left hand and said, in tones of unflattering surprise, "Are you getting married, or something?"

Fiona blushed. Cadel said crossly, "She's getting married to Mr. Greeniaus," and slipped out of Lexi's clinging headlock just as Judith Bashford wheeled Sonja into the room.

Judith was accompanied by Sonja's social worker, and by a bald man in pinstripes who must have been a lawyer, to judge from the way Mel Hofmeier hailed him. But Cadel wasn't interested in lawyers or social workers. He headed straight for the wheelchair, wearing a tremulous smile.

As far as he could see, Sonja looked well enough. She was dressed in a new velvet skirt, and her hair was neatly braided. Someone had been keeping her nails trimmed.

Her feet were encased in the slippers that she had received from Cadel.

"Hi," he said. "I've been waiting for you. Did you get my letters?"

Sonja jabbed at her DynaVox. Unfortunately, however, she was too excited to spell out a coherent reply: She kept missing the keys, partly because her neck muscles were going into spasm. She couldn't even direct her eyes toward the screen in front of her.

Seeing this, Cadel dropped to one knee beside the wheelchair and took her clawed hand in his.

"It's okay," he muttered. "I heard the news from Saul. He told me you'll be living with Judith."

"Providing that I have anywhere to live after the dust settles!" Judith blared. She was draped in layer upon layer of embroidered cheesecloth, and had thrust her wide feet into a pair of sequinned sandals. "What with all the bloody lawyer's fees I'm having to shell out, and the way the tax office has been poking its nose in, I'll be lucky if I'm left with the price of a cappuccino!" She leaned forward to pat Sonja's shoulder. "But if Sonja's around, they'll think twice about turfing me onto the street. In fact, I'm hoping this scheme goes ahead, so she'll be able to support me in my old age."

Cadel smiled uncertainly. He knew something about the complicated agreement that Judith had thrashed out with the police, in an effort to avoid paying too high a price for her activities at Clearview House. He also knew that her offer to look after Sonja was regarded with suspicion by everyone who'd heard about it—except Sonja herself. A lot of people had tried to dissuade Sonja from even considering the placement, which was considered "highly irregular" by various health and welfare offices. But since Sonja was about to turn eighteen, and Judith could easily afford round-the-clock nursing care, it was hard to find any solid grounds for refusing the application. Not unless Judith was actually convicted of a crime.

Cadel himself was cautiously optimistic. He had long ago decided that Judith was genuinely attached to Sonja; in fact, he believed that Judith had blown the whistle on Genius Squad purely out of concern for his best friend's safety. And after interrogating Judith for several hours, Saul now shared this opinion. "I suppose DoCS would have to keep an eye on them both," he'd mused at one point, "but I think Judith Bashford is Sonja's best option right now."

Cadel agreed. Judith Bashford was undoubtedly Sonja's best option, because her overpowering personality and skewed sense of humor didn't seem to faze Sonja at all. Certainly Sonja didn't flinch when Judith loudly demanded, "So what are we waiting for? I thought this thing was supposed to start at five!"

"We're waiting for Gazo Kovacs," Saul explained. The words were barely out of his mouth, however, when someone coughed over near the doorway and a small voice said, "I'm here."

Turning, Cadel saw that Gazo had, in fact, already joined them. He had somehow managed to enter the room without attracting notice—perhaps because he was clad in such dull, unassuming clothes. Catching Cadel's eye, he gave a little half smile. But before either of them could say anything, Saul began to address the assembled company.

"If you could all just find a seat," he announced, in a slightly strained fashion, "we can kick off the proceedings." Over the subsequent clatter of steel chair legs, he added, "As you know, we're here to decide how the so-called Genius Squad concept can be used to facilitate the capture of Prosper English. And I realize you must have discussed this idea at length, in private meetings with various—ah—advisors and interested parties. But my intention today is that we should clarify exactly what we want to do here, and exactly what we're all expecting to get out of the proposed scenario." As everyone sat down, Saul unexpectedly walked around the circular arrangement of graffiti-covered desks until he reached Cadel. "I'm hoping," the detective said, laying a hand on Cadel's shoulder, "that most of you who know Cadel, and realize what a special kid he is, are partly motivated by a desire to make sure he's not gonna be living in fear of Prosper English for the rest of his life."

"Hear, hear!" cried Lexi, causing Judith to roll her eyes, and Hamish to snort. Almost everyone else looked startled, including Saul Greeniaus—who was thrown off his stride, and had to think for a moment before continuing.

"Basically," he said, "we have some ground rules to lay down, some terms to negotiate, and also, I presume, some questions to answer. Once that's done, then maybe we can tackle the important issue of locating Ulysses Vee. Because Vee's still at large, and we know that Prosper's been using his services. If we can find Vee, we might find Prosper English." Then Devin put his hand up, and Saul blinked. "Uh ... yes, Devin?"

"What about Cadel?" Devin asked, to which the detective's answer was: "What about him?"

"Well, we can't do this without Cadel. He knows more than any of us, especially when it comes to Prosper English." Though Devin spoke as if it pained him to make such an admission, Cadel was touched. "How can he help us, if you've locked him up somewhere and won't let him out?"

"Good point," drawled Mel Hofmeier, with a sideways glance at Saul, who dragged his fingers through his hair in a clear sign of agitation.

"Um ... Cadel isn't locked up, exactly," Saul replied. "But I agree, his situation could be better. Which is why it's important that Genius Squad starts work pretty soon. If we can locate Prosper English, then we'll hopefully be able to anticipate and prevent any attack on Cadel. And if we can do that, then we can take him out of the high-security environment in which he's currently placed."

"And put him where?" Judith wanted to know. Before the detective could respond, however, Lexi interrupted.

"He'll be earning money, too, won't he? Like the rest of us?" she said. "You'll be paying him to be on Genius Squad?"

"Well, yes. That's the theory," Saul confirmed. "If we can get the budget approved under a special provision—"

But Lexi wouldn't let him finish.

"Then Cadel could move in with us! With me and my brother!" she cried. "We're going to share a house with Gazo Kovacs and pay part of the rent out of what we earn! Why can't Cadel live there, too?"

"Because he's only fifteen." Fiona torpedoed Lexi's proposal with a kind of sympathetic regret. "He's just a bit too young. You're sixteen, Lexi, you're old enough to live without much supervision."

"Yeah, but—"

"Anyway," Saul broke in, "we're working out somewhere for Cadel. We just haven't finalized the details yet. When we have, you'll be the first to know."

Cadel stared at him in surprise. If plans were afoot to change the current arrangements, Cadel hadn't been apprised of them. He would have liked to hear more. He even raised his hand, to request further details.

Saul, however, wasn't ready to indulge him. "I'll talk to you later," he said, without waiting to hear Cadel's question. Then he launched into a long speech about Genius Squad's proposed operational parameters and how it would be a highly confidential experiment, with built-in safeguards and a strict probationary period for all concerned. He explained that much of the equipment from Clearview House would be requisitioned for the squad's use, although some of it was being held as evidence; he stressed that rules had been bent slightly to acquire it, and that everyone had to be very careful about following various codes of conduct relating to its custody and treatment or it would be taken away.

Cadel already knew most of this; it had been explained to him several times. So he let his attention drift around the table, studying one face after another, as he wondered where he was going to end up. Obviously he wouldn't be staying with Gazo—Fiona had made that quite clear. And it was just as well, too, because Cadel didn't want to live with Lexi again. His heart went out to Gazo, who probably didn't know what he was letting himself in for. Lexi was an awful lot of work, and Gazo didn't respond well to sudden shocks. He might get jumpy if the twins were always fighting. He might lose control of his stench and knock them both out by accident.

Gazo and Cadel exchanged another fleeting, embarrassed smile. It would be nice to have a chat at some stage, Cadel thought. Then his wandering gaze alighted on Sonja, who was having an especially bad bout of painful muscular contractions. Normally Cadel would have leaped to her aid. He would have tried to stop her from hurting herself, by supporting some of her limbs and intercepting others. But Judith seemed to have mastered that knack. She did it almost instinctively.

Watching her, Cadel decided that she was the right person to care for Sonja. The question was: Had Judith volunteered to take him in, as well? Was that the option being "finalized" by Saul? Or had someone else made an offer? Mr. and Mrs. Primrose, perhaps?

Surely Cadel wouldn't have to live with the Donkins. Or, even worse, with Chester Cramp!

After Saul had finished his speech, there was a lot of discussion among the lawyers and social workers about evening shifts, supervision, reporting lines, and legal accountability. Meanwhile Lexi yawned, Devin added more graffiti to his desk, and Hamish played with his chewing gum. The three of them only perked up when the talk turned to specifics—to pay scales, for instance, or to their assigned duties as members of Genius Squad.

But according to Saul, it was too early for specifics. And the meeting ended soon afterward, when it became clear that nothing could be settled until Garth Renmark had secured a "final go-ahead" for the project. Cadel, who had observed Garth's folded arms and sour expression, wasn't hopeful. Especially disappointing was the fact that Garth slipped out early, having mumbled something to Saul and not bothered to thank anyone else. In Cadel's view, Genius Squad was dead in the water.

Apparently, however, he was wrong.

"That was great," Saul declared, as he shook hands with Mel. "I think we're in with a good chance. Garth's a hundred percent behind us now. He'll push it through, I'm certain."

"But he looked like he hated us all," Cadel protested. "What makes you think he's going to help?"

"Because he told me he'd have an answer by tomorrow," Saul replied. "Which means he understands how important it is to get this thing kicked off."

Mel nodded. He explained to Cadel that Mr. Renmark always looked as if he hated everyone. "It's a technique," Mel said. "To stop people pestering you. When you're in a hush-hush kind of job like Garth Renmark, you don't want to be answering too many questions."

Then Mel offered Fiona a lift, which she politely declined. By this time everyone was leaving; the Primroses, in fact, had already gone, shepherding Hamish out of the room before he could do more than aim a quick thumbs-up at Cadel. Gazo slipped out as quietly as he'd arrived, with only a wave at Cadel to signal his departure, while Lexi had to be dragged away by her attendants, loudly objecting that she hadn't had a chance to "talk to people." "It isn't fair!" she complained. "I haven't seen Cadel for ages! I want to ask him about what happened! Why does Sonja get to stay and I don't?"

"Sonja's not staying, stupid—where'd you get that idea?" growled Devin, from inside the lift. And it was true. Judith wouldn't linger, not even to oblige Cadel. She was afraid of overtiring Sonja, who hadn't been sleeping. ("Nightmares," Judith said succinctly, by way of explanation. "She still hasn't got over that business with Prosper English.") So Cadel had to kiss Sonja good-bye without exchanging more than a few words. He couldn't even accompany her to Judith's car, because Saul wanted him to wait behind.

"There's something we need to discuss," the detective informed him. "I know it's hard, but you'll be seeing Sonja again very soon, I promise. It's just that we have one last decision to make."

"Is it about where I'm going to live?" asked Cadel. "Is it about Chester Cramp?"

Saul frowned. Suddenly he turned to the surveillance team and ordered them outside. To Cadel's astonishment, they promptly obeyed, closing the door behind them.

Their withdrawal meant that only Saul, Fiona, and Cadel were left in the seminar room.

"I think that went quite well," Saul opined. He returned to where Cadel was slumped in a chair, and sat down opposite him. "I think Genius Squad will be operational in a couple of weeks. And if it is, we might have some solid leads on Prosper by the end of the month." He regarded Cadel intently. "What's your view?"

Cadel shrugged. "Like I said," he replied, "I've got a few ideas. But Vee's very good. And Prosper's not stupid. It's going to be hard."

"That's why we need Genius Squad," the detective asserted, and began to argue his case in a well-reasoned, quietly impassioned way, while Fiona stood over him nervously. "You once told me that you could protect yourself online way better than anyone else. I didn't believe you, back then, because I didn't know you. Now I do. And I can see that you're the best hope we have when it comes to loeating Prosper English. When it comes to ensuring your own future safety, in fact."

Cadel was bemused. "Yes, I know. You already told me this," he said.

"We're just trying to explain why we haven't mentioned our idea before," Fiona chimed in. "The idea we're about to run past you, I mean. And we didn't want to get your hopes up. Not until we'd done a bit of research—"

"There are security issues," Saul interjected. "This whole arrangement won't be possible until we're feeling a bit more confident about Prosper's movements."

"What whole arrangement?" Cadel looked from Saul to Fiona and back again. He was utterly lost. "What are you talking about?"

"Cadel..." Saul took a deep breath, both hands resting tensely on his knees. "Chester Cramp isn't particularly interested in you. I guess you realize that."

"Yeah," Cadel said flatly. "I'm supposed to be a genius, remember? I managed to work that out."

"Of course." The detective licked his lips. He was choosing his words with enormous precision. "What you probably don't realize is that Cramp's currently being investigated, and he's terrified of Prosper English. The last thing he's worried about at present is making any sort of parental claim."

"Which he'd be completely unjustified in doing, anyway!" Fiona added, before she was silenced by a warning look from her fiancé.

"The thing is, Cadel," Saul continued, "now that we know Cramp's your father, and that you can claim Australian citizenship ... well..."

A pause.

"Well what?" said Cadel.

"Saul's trying to say that it's up to you," Fiona stressed. "We don't want to pressure you into anything."

"Pressure me about what?" Cadel was fast losing patience. He didn't need all this ambiguity and circumspection. He was anxious enough already.

Sensing this, the detective finally made his announcement, in a hoarse and hesitant voice.

"As you know, Ms. Currey and I are getting married next month," he said. "And once that happens, we'd like to adopt you."

Cadel stared at him.

"If you're agreeable," Saul amended, rather nervously.

"You can think about it as long as you like," Fiona was quick to point out. Whereupon Saul backed her up, with clumsy haste.

"Oh-uh-yeah, sure," he stammered. "That's right. Don't rush your decision."

"You can talk to someone about it," said Fiona, obviously flustered by Cadel's speechless regard. "There are special counselors. You can even talk to Mel, if you're worried."

"We wouldn't want you to change the way you act, or ... I mean, I wouldn't expect you to think of me as your father. Or Fiona as your mother." Saul was almost squirming with discomfort. "We just want to give you a home, and make sure there's always someone to look after you. Once it's safe enough for you to leave police custody."

"Oh." Cadel swallowed. Suddenly he felt as if his thawing heart had been snap-frozen. "So you're doing this ... just to keep me out of the Donkins' house?" he mumbled, and saw the detective start.

"Hell, no!" Saul exclaimed, almost with horror, and his fiancée enveloped Cadel in a fierce hug.

"Sweetie," she said, "I can't tell you how much we want this. This is so important to us."

"You see, Fiona and I ... we're looking forward to a great life together," Saul carefully explained. "But you can't start that sort of life while you're missing someone, and worrying about them, and always feeling that things aren't right because—well, because someone's not there who should be."

"You were in this from the beginning," Fiona remarked, her breath warm on Cadel's ear. "Without you, Saul and I would never have met. We'd never have ended up on the same side. You're part of this family already. We just have to make it formal."

"If that's what you want, of course," Saul finished, so awkwardly that Cadel had to smile. It was a joke, really. How could there be any doubt? How could such a clever man be so foolish?

But Cadel wasn't foolish. He knew what he wanted.

"Oh, yes. Yes, please," he gasped, his eyes shining.

Then he returned Fiona's embrace. And though he did it clumsily, without the skill that comes from long years of practice, he displayed the sort of enthusiasm that makes up for everything else.