Then Danté hired Tim Feely and P. J. Colding. Colding made Genada stop the human experiments. He made Rhumkorrf prescribe new medicine for Jian.
And the spiders went away.
“This is your room,” Colding said. “Do you like it?”
She touched the maroon wallpaper, feeling the texture of the velvet patterns. A plastic light fixture looked out of place on the high ceiling, as if another fixture had just been removed. A beautiful, wooden, four-post bed awaited her, its thick white comforter calling to her like a lover.
Most important of all, of course, was another seven-monitor computer desk. Just like the one in the C-5, just like the one back on Baffin Island. Danté understood. He always made sure Jian could work no matter where she was.
“This used to be a hangout for the rich and famous,” Colding said. “That’s what you’ll be soon. Rich and famous.”
Jian sighed as she crawled onto the mattress, marveling at the softness of the thick down comforter. She laid her head on the pillow. Colding pulled the comforter up around her shoulders.
She looked up at Colding. “You like Sara, don’t you?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Mister Colding, she is very nice. You should date her.”
“But I can’t date, Jian. I mean, my wife died only…” His voice trailed off.
“Over three years ago,” Jian said, finishing his sentence for him. “That’s a long time, Mister Colding.”
“Three years,” Colding said quietly, as if trying the words on for size.
“You go see Sara right now. You go to her room, talk.”
She waved him away and was already asleep before he made it out the door.
NOVEMBER 9: THIS IS MY WEAPON, THIS IS MY GUN
A KNOCK AT her door. Sara’s pulse quickened. Maybe it was P. J. Peej. Come to give her a proper apology. She wanted to hate him, but riding with him in the Hummer had been a mistake. It made her remember why she’d wanted him in the first place, two years ago.
A glance at the clock showed 11:15 P.M. She quickly checked herself in the room’s full-length mirror. According to Stephanie, Marilyn had been a frequent visitor to Black Manitou, always stayed in Room 17 and had used this very mirror many times. But Marilyn probably hadn’t had bags under her eyes, or worn a rumpled flight suit or been all dirty and sweaty from a long flight.
What did it matter? Sara wasn’t going to sleep with Colding. She could control her hormones. Colding was a user, and that was that. She wasn’t interested in his brown eyes. Or the way he kissed.
Knock it off, idiot. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, go fuck yourself.
She took a deep breath, then walked to the door and opened it… to see the leering face of Andy Crosthwaite.
“Hiya, toots. Still wanna confiscate my gun?”
Sara felt a combination of revulsion and disappointment.
“Andy, it’s time for bed.”
“Exactly,” he said, and started to slide through the half-open door.
Sara Purinam hadn’t risen to the top of a man’s world without learning a thing or three. She blocked the door with her body. The motion brought their two bodies together, so close they could have kissed. Andy’s leering smile widened.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Last warning, Andy. You should walk away.”
He laughed in her face.
Sara brought her knee up fast, catching Andy square in the nuts. She could have done it much harder, but she only wanted to stun him a little, not put him in the infirmary. He let out a little whuff and half doubled over. She put a hand on his head and pushed. He stumbled back two steps, enough for her to shut the door and lock it.
She peeked through the peephole. Andy stared at the door. He wasn’t leering anymore. Now he looked like someone who might bomb a government building for shits and giggles. Even through a locked door, Sara felt a small flutter of fear.
Then Andy stood and smiled. He knew she was looking. He turned and walked down the hallway, right hand still on his testicles.
NOVEMBER 9: BLUE-LIGHT SPECIAL
Implantation +0 Days
AS THE GENADA staff slept, the experimental creatures moved to the next stage. Inside each of the fifty cows, the implanted blastocysts had floated through the void of the uterus until they brushed softly against the uterine wall.
At the contact point, cells rapidly changed into trophoblasts. The specialized trophoblast cells divided, penetrating the uterine wall, almost like anchors diving into the soft seafloor. The process was common to all mammals—except no mammal, not even the smallest mouse, went through the process that fast. Trophoblasts linked up with the cow’s cells to begin creation of the placenta, and also spread around the rest of the blastocyst to create the amniotic sac, a membrane that would surround the embryos and contain a fluid to protect its contents from shocks and bumps.
Less than three hours after that delicate landing, another set of cells distanced itself from the trophoblast. This set of cells, the embryoblast, would become the ancestor itself. When the embryoblast separated, a piece of Jian’s coding caused it to cleave in half. Inside the amniotic sacs, halves quickly started developing into individuals.
Blue-light special, two for the price of one.
And the cows’ immune systems? No response. Nothing at all.
Once upon a time, a man named Roger Bannister shocked the world by running a mile in less than four minutes—a feat that experts had declared “impossible.” Jian’s process was a biological equivalent of that feat, or would have been, if Roger had run his mile in thirty seconds flat.
Less than twenty-four hours after the enucleated egg first fused with the artificially created DNA, gastrulation occurred. In human pregnancies, gastrulation does not occur for two weeks.
Gastrulation is a fancy word that means that cells stop being copies of each other and start taking on the specialized functions of tissues and organs. From a ball of undifferentiated cells, three distinct cell layers form: the ectoderm, the endoderm, and the mesoderm.
The mesoderm becomes the structure of the animal, including the muscles, bones, circulatory system and the reproductive system. The endoderm eventually grows into the digestive and respiratory systems. The ectoderm generates skin and the neural system—that includes the brain.
While all three layers combined to create an ancestor, the ectoderm would turn out to be the real troublemaker.
NOVEMBER 10: ROTTED SQUIRREL
Implantation +1 Day
COLDING STOOD ON the mansion’s front steps, shivering in the early-morning cold despite his thick down parka. He checked his watch. Seventeen minutes after eight. Sara stared at him. He tried to ignore her.
“Hey, Colding,” she said. “Unless that watch is some kind of Star Wars teleporter, it’s not going to make Clayton get here any sooner.”
“Star Trek had teleporters, not Star Wars.”
“Oh, snap. Thank you for the nerd correction, fan boy.”
“Give it a rest. Clayton’s late, okay?”
She put both hands on her cheeks and affected an expression of shock. She looked out at the mansion’s snow-covered front lawn and the long curving driveway—both of which, of course, were completely empty. “Looks like we’re going to get all caught up in the morning-commute traffic jam. We’ll be late for the Trekkies convention!”