Munoz
Slapping Bianca's report against his hand, Munoz prowled the outer laboratory like a caged lion. "Three years, Bianca! Thirty-two Dakotans in three years. This will never do. Never do at all. I'm beginning to believe Leann Carter was one step ahead of you after all."
"Not likely. She was still typing when I hit the delete key. There was nothing to send." Her own voice matched his belligerence. "Why they went underground is anybody's guess."
"Oh, really. Have you considered indiscreet elimination? I would think that a series of fatal accidents involving Dakotan males might send them into hiding. Wouldn't you agree? That was careless, Bianca."
Bianca flushed.
"I want Ellery Jensen put under surveillance. You can bet she knows where they went. The woman wouldn't stay behind without a reason—culling information, I suspect. Sooner or later, she's going to make contact with someone." His face turned livid. "On second thought, perhaps it's time to bring her in, try a little persuasive questioning."
"Ha! You might as well question that ape over there for all the answers you'll get. The type of persuasion you're talking about will never work on her. She'd go to her grave laughing at you."
"You are an expert in the art?"
"Listen, Raphael, I know how her mind works. You're going about this all wrong. Personal attacks, surveillance, your specialized questioning? She's prepared for that. No. You have to keep Ellery off balance, keep her mind focused on other areas. When her fear for Dakotan safety becomes too great, she'll have to personally make certain that daughter of hers is fully protected. When she does, we'll be there."
"Like you were with Matthew Jensen?" Munoz strode back to her desk and leaned his face close to hers. "What about him? I told you he was needed."
Her eyes challenged his. "The opportunity was just too perfect, Raphael. The takeover mentality of that revolutionary group had to be squelched. His brother's death didn't do it—maybe his will. As it is, their concept has spread like wildfire. Or haven't you noticed the placards and riots?"
"I'm not blind. The Aristocrats are in every nation I've visited over the past eighteen months. If it weren't for Vittorio's vigilance, I have no doubt that the rabble would have breached the Vatican itself." He straightened and his body moved back and forth. "No matter. Every country is now linked to the master control center and all grid power is on. Without a cause, such a group can't survive."
"Don't sell them short, Raphael," she said. "It isn't just the grid anymore. Their battle cry is loud and clear: freedom or die. That's a powerful cry for the masses. Matthew Jensen kept the Aristocrats going and if other Dakotans are as deeply involved in the organization, your blueprint for world domination could fail. You know that, don't you?"
His black eyes glittered and his rocking movement abruptly ceased. "That will never come to pass, Bianca. Never. Not if you stick to the plan."
"Sometimes plans have to be adjusted to accommodate the circumstances." Bianca leaned back in the chair, clasping her hands across her stomach. "It's time we widened our circle of influence."
His brow lifted questioningly.
"It occurred to me that what we have here isn't a gene at all. It's a debilitating disease—communicable if activated. The public needs to be protected from this Dakotan abomination the same as they're protected from diphtheria or smallpox. Mandatory vaccination. That's the operative word here."
"Continue."
"I have tissue and blood samples taken from each accident victim and I've already started working on a gene blocker. Once a vaccine is perfected, let the public find the Dakotans for us. I'm certain a nice reward for information on the whereabouts of Dakotan carriers will open mouths. In the interest of public safety, of course."
"Do you think a half million dollars would be adequate for such a reward?"
"For half a million dollars, there's not a person out there who won't come forward, including Dakotans. Perhaps especially Dakotans. After all, they will receive two benefits: the vaccine will cure them of the deadly curse they pass to their children, and they'll have enough money to disappear forever."
"So will Ellery Jensen, if she ever gets wind of this."
She didn't answer, but the darkening of her eyes told him that she understood what he wasn't saying.
Almost there, he thought. The Dakotan memory still had to be dealt with, but Bianca's vaccine would take care of that. As for the rest of the plan, the Pittman Scrolls were firmly entrenched. The City of the Dead was even now being filled with the influential of the world; as executor of their estates, the Church coffers were overflowing. Global unrest had escalated into isolated military skirmishes; it would require little to set off a full-scale war.
He would need Halloran's help in getting the Neutrality Pact for the City of the Dead ratified by the Transnationals. The Saharan project must be accepted as a neutral zone by all nations before the final phase of the project could be implemented.
All except the Eastern Bloc had signed, but they would. Their money sources would undergo in-vaulting on Tuesday and the Church had included a special clause in the Treaty agreeing to match any funds those outside donations would have provided—as long as the Neutrality Pact was signed and honored.
He picked up Bianca's phone and dialed Washington.
"Senator Halloran's office."
"This is Pope Munoz. Let me speak to the Senator." Holding his hand over the phone's speaker, he said, "I met with certain ambitious men privately last month. They were most anxious to cooperate in having the City ratified as a neutral zone once I assured them that the Church will stand in solid support of their nominations to the seats of power."
His hand jerked away from the receiver; he listened. "No, that won't be necessary. Tell him I'll be arriving in Washington tomorrow to discuss a matter of grave importance to the Transnationals." He frowned into the phone. "You give him my message when he returns. I don't care how late it is. I'll be in Washington tomorrow and at his office no later than nine a.m. He'll be there, I assure you. Yes, I would suggest his other appointments be canceled for the day." Munoz chuckled into the speaker. "You may tell the Senator I took the liberty of rearranging his calendar. He'll understand. You have a good day, too, sir." Still chuckling, he replaced the phone. The smile disappeared from his face as he turned toward Bianca.
"Is your assistant prepared?"
She nodded. "He knows the dry procedures. In fact, he's almost better at it than I am. It was Mace's idea to incorporate natron into the process. Once Dane Wyland schools him on the freezing vaults, he'll be ready."
"You trust him to carry out the plan, to recruit a committed successor?"
She answered the question with one of her own. "You've established the fund for eternal guardianship of the City?"
"Of course."
"Can it be challenged, declared invalid?"
"Never. The trust conditions are specific."
"Need I say more? Relax, Raphael. If you were Mace, would you tamper with the source of a quarter billion dollars and a VIP in-vaulting? That's powerful motivation." Her shoulders lifted, relaxed. "Think of it this way, if he doesn't train his own replacement—with the same commitment to the plan that he has—he'll never get one finger on the money because his resurrection in our future will be nothing more than wishful thinking. Unfortunately, by that time you and I will be in-vaulted and we'll never know, will we?" Her laugh rang through the laboratory. "On the other hand, if he does adhere to your plan, you've spent—"
The soft chime of the wall intercom interrupted their conversation. Bianca jumped up from her chair, sauntered to the paneled wall, and buzzed the door open. "It's about time," she said as Dane stepped through the opening. "We were beginning to get a little worried."
Munoz eyed the young man's sweat-streaked face. "Problem, Dane?"
"No," the engineer said, shaking his head. "It got too warm in there, that's all."
"You've taken all the measurements you'll need?" Munoz said.
"I may have to make a few adjustments later on, but right now I have all I need." He turned to Bianca. "About portable, Doctor Raborman—there's no way. Not and do everything else you've requested. Do you still want to go ahead with this?"
"I'm disappointed it can't be done. I had hoped to use the container as a transport cage also." She paused, then said, "Build the container, Mr. Wyland."
Dane pulled the notepad from his pocket and handed it to her. "If you can get these materials gathered together for me, we'll have George in a new house within the next ninety days."
Bianca scrutinized the list. "The supplies will be here day after tomorrow. What are your plans for the rest of the day?"
"Back to San Francisco."
"Do you have friends in the city?" Munoz asked.
"No, sir." Dane thrust out his hand to Munoz, then to Bianca. "It's off to the beach, for me. I've got water to splash in."
"Brrr!" Bianca said. "That water's icy cold."
Dane grinned. "Yeah—isn't it great?"
Watching the young man stride away, Munoz said, "You ought to try developing a serum for perpetual youth, Bianca. There's nothing as robust as young energy."