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Marquez and Banson stood warily in the holding cell as Karl Rogett and his team came in. Their handcuffs and shackles clinked and rattled, but the men didn’t move, except to shrink slightly at the weapons pointed their way.
“Gentlemen,” Cassandra began, “we’re sending you home.”
They stood there confused for a moment, until Marquez asked, “Why?”
“Shut up,” interjected Banson. “The lady says we can go home, let’s go home.”
Marquez cleared his throat. “I still want to know why. Or at least how. Did General Tyler make some kind of deal?”
“No deal.” Cassandra smiled pleasantly. “You’re just more trouble than you’re worth. Besides, we have all we need from you.”
“Bullshit. You didn’t get nothin’ from us!” Banson feinted a lunge but Cassandra didn’t flinch. Karl raised his weapon, a naked threat.
“I got plenty. Remember those long conversations we had? And then there’s this.” She held up a metal cylinder. “Say hello to your little friends.”
“Huh?” Banson’s jaw slackened.
“She means, that’s our nanos. They took our nanos out. That’s why we’re weak,” Marquez explained.
“No...” Cassandra said, dropping her head in a show of pity, “that’s not why you’re weak. You’ve always been weak. That’s just why you’re going home.” She turned her back on him in contempt, shaking the cylinder idly.
Banson broke, lunging for his tormenter. Karl’s monster taser flashed and he dropped like a stone. Bettina caught him as he fell, laying him gently on the floor.
Marquez didn’t move except to look down at his comrade. “He never could control himself.” Raising his eyes, he said, “Ma’am. I don’t want to go back. What do I need to do to make that happen?”
Cassandra turned around. “Don’t want to go back? Why ever not?” Catlike merriment danced in her eyes.
“Let’s just say I don’t think I’ll be treated kindly. Either of us. But you don’t want him anyway. Me on the other hand...”
She laughed, throaty. “What could you possibly offer me that I don’t already have?”
“I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Cassandra’s laughter strengthened. “Like I just said...I have everything you know already. You have nothing I want.” Not exactly true, but...
Marquez’ voice broke. “Look, Señora, I’ll do whatever job you want. I’ll be a prison trustie. I’ll work in the mines. South Africa still has mines, right? I’ll start over as a private, whatever it takes. Or send me to Australia. I hear they’ll take anyone.”
“Comes from starting out as a penal colony,” she remarked, thinking. “All right, I’ll make you a deal. One time offer, non-negotiable. First, we debrief you completely, and you hold nothing back.”
He nodded.
“Second, you become an Eden.”
He gulped, then nodded again.
“Third, you go where I tell you to, do what I tell you to, until I decide otherwise. If you step out of line, you’re back in a cell. And remember, as an Eden, a life sentence is a really, really long time.”
“Okay,” he agreed, defeated. “Whatever you say.”
“Good. Karl, prep Banson for his flight home. Then take Marquez here to the clinic and shoot him up.”
Karl looked at Cassandra expectantly. “And then?”
Her smile was Cheshire. “Send him to Antarctica.”
