Bianca
On Pelican Island, in the hidden laboratory, George Kayman lay drugged and bound in a black iron cage; his feverish moans echoed into the front lab where Munoz and Bianca stood beside a stainless steel sink. Warm water, tinged red by the blood dripping from deep cuts on Bianca's arm, whirlpooled down the drain.
"Antibiotic?" Munoz said.
"In the drawer, white container." Bianca pointed to one of the lower cabinets. "Bandages and tape are in the next one."
Munoz shook a fluid-filled can, held it above Bianca's arm, and sprayed a thin film that quickly set into a sheer, cellophane-like covering. The open wounds slowly pulled together and the bleeding stopped. With deft twirling, he bandaged her arm from shoulder to wrist and taped it firmly.
"Are you sure you can handle that creature you've created, Bianca? I've never seen such rage. I'd swear he was trying to kill you."
"He was," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "but that will pass. A few stints with the rod will cool his fervor."
"I don't know," Munoz said.
"You've seen the ape. She tried a few times. She doesn't anymore. I was careless, Raphael. I wanted a species that could think and analyze, but now I see that was a mistake. George convinced me he was unconscious. That won't happen again. A small adjustment to the serum and his mind will be no different from that of any other dumb animal. Hate and rage will give way to fear and survival."
Turning off the water, she swabbed the sink thoroughly with disinfectant and flipped up the sterilizing switch. Soft rays of pale blue light bathed the stainless steel. For a split second, Bianca held her bandaged arm beneath the rays that, like the healing solution, Ellery Jensen had developed. Even here, in her own lab, she couldn't get away from the woman. Her face contorted with anger.
"I think we have a more serious problem to concern ourselves with, don't you?"
"Perhaps," he said thoughtfully. "Matthew Jensen is on the environmental committee headed up by Senator Halloran. I think I'll give the good senator another call, see if he can shed any light on this memory ability. If it's as infallible as that news article seemed to indicate, Halloran must have seen it in action."
"I thought he was the senator that keeps the Transnationals informed of United Americas' new policies. Wouldn't alerting him to our concerns be dangerous?"
"Halloran is a fool," Munoz spat. "A useful fool, though. He'll never question my interest."
"If he confirms the memory?"
"The solution is simple," he said, black eyes glittering.
"That is?"
Munoz rocked gently heel-to-toe. "They will have to be eliminated." He glanced at his watch. "The Senator is probably sound asleep by now." His shoulders lifted, relaxed. "Your phone?"
"Telescreen?"
"No. I don't want every satellite in the country picking up my call. Don't you have a dedicated line?"
Bianca strolled to the credenza behind her desk, slid a top panel to the side, and retrieved the instrument.
Grabbing the arm of her desk chair, he rolled it next to the credenza and sat down. He picked up the phone and dialed. Bianca leaned against the desk, watching his face.
"Senator! Pope Munoz, here. I'm sorry to wake you. I would have waited until tomorrow, but I'm in a meeting right now and have to make an immediate decision about a new request that's been submitted to Tartarus. We need an experts opinion about a young man in the environmental division, the one who does all of the cause and effect projections with such unerring accuracy." He listened, then nodded his head. "Yes, that's the one. Matthew Jensen."
Munoz shook his head at the phone. "Trouble? Not at all. Tibor Gombocz says he's the right man for this project, but I'm not so sure. Tartarus doesn't need the kind of projective computing ability Mr. Jensen displays so much as they need someone with good visual and verbal memory. Someone who has the ability to spontaneously recall facts. Accurately."
How easily he draws particulars from others, Bianca thought. Halloran's reticence to impart information unless he gained useful details in return was well known in diplomatic circles, as was his loyalty to The Transnationals. Yet, here he was, apparently speaking freely without a question being asked. Is it because he's speaking to the Pope or did the man think Munoz had unwittingly revealed private information because of name-dropping references? She could feel her forehead wrinkling as she studied her consort's face. God. How many times had he drawn her out in just the same way? Too many she supposed, but it wouldn't happen again. A valuable lesson this—one she too could use.
Munoz listened intently for several minutes, occasionally murmuring an uh-huh or an I see into the mouthpiece. "Well, thank you, Senator. I appreciate your input. I'll get back with you later if everyone agrees he's the right man. Yes, I will, and you too, Senator. Good-bye. Sorry again about disturbing your night." He laid the receiver into its cradle; his hand briefly rested on the instrument.
At last he swiveled to face Bianca. "During the committee meetings last week, young Jensen and Senator Gorban got into a shouting match over some major environmental agreements approved by the Transnational's Policy Conference a few months back. Gorban made a snide remark that set young Jensen off. First time Halloran had ever seen Matthew lose his diplomatic control."
Munoz closed his eyes and leaned back into the chair. Silence gathered throughout the room. With his eyes still closed, Munoz spoke.
"You probably don't know this, but all committee meetings are circuit taped. Halloran broke up the confrontation and sent everybody home for a week to cool off. He was curious, though." His eyes snapped open. "He compared the policy meeting tapes with Matthew Jensen's quotes."
"And?" A flame glowed deep in her eyes.
"Eliminate them," he said harshly.
"All of them?" The flame leapt higher.
Munoz stared into the space across Bianca's shoulder. He finally spoke. "All except Ellery Jensen and her family. She is the core of the Dakotan gene, the prime celebrity. The responses you received from the families you contacted tells me that they are afraid of her, afraid of what she might do with her talent, afraid that they—or their descendants—may be on the receiving end of more Dakotan experiments in the future." He studied the ceiling. "The longer she lives, the greater that fear will become. Especially if it appears she and hers are receiving preferential treatment. I think that fact will be useful to us in the future. As for Ellery's sons, I require their talents and until ceases to be the case, they are not to be touched."
"You know her daughter is expecting, don't you? Victoria should be going into labor in another month or so."
"That shouldn't be a problem, Bianca," he said keeping his gaze fixed on the laboratory ceiling. "Hospitals do experience stillbirths now and then. Our hospitals are no different."
Already her mind was racing with a plan. She would bring Ellery Jensen to her knees, but it wouldn't be by killing Dakotans. That would be too easy. A few would have to die, of course, to keep Raphael satisfied; they would be the lucky ones. I will destroy what the great Victor Dakota created in my own way, she thought. When it is done, Doctor Jensen, your genetic genius will crumble and fade before the glory that will be mine. Bianca smiled at Munoz as a sudden rush of moisture dampened her panties. With the drum roll of victory beating through her mind, she dropped the chemise from her shoulders.
Tongue flicking, he gathered her naked body to him, meeting her need with his own.