She'snot like her predecessor. She's a decent kid.
That tape's as much a rape of her—as me.
God, God, when'sshe going to get the thing? Two more years?
When she's seventeen?
"Maybe I will," she said. "—Justin, whydid he do it?"
He shook his head, violently. "Nobody knows. Nobody really knows. Temper. God knows they didn't get along."
"You're his replicate."
He lost his breath a moment. And got caught looking her straight in the eyes.
"You don't have a temper like that," she said. "Do you?"
"I'm not like you," he said. "I'm just his twin. Physical resemblance, that's all."
"Did he fight with a lot of people?"
He tried to think what to say; and came up with: "No. But he and Ari had a lot of professional disagreements. Things that mattered to them. Personalities, mostly."
"Yanni says you're awfully good."
He wobbled badly on that shift of ground and knew she had seen the relief. "Yanni's very kind."
"Yanni's a bitch," she laughed. "But I like him. —He says you work deep-set stuff."
He nodded. "Experimental." He was glad to talk about his work. Anything but the subject they had been on.
"He says your designs are really good. But the computers keep spitting out Field Too Large."
"They've done some other tests."
"I'd like you to teach me," she said.
"Ari, that's kind of you, but I don't think your uncle Denys would like that. I don'tthink they want me around you. I don't think that's ever going to change."
"I want you to teach me," she said, "what you're doing."
He found no quick answer then. And she waited without saying a thing.
"Ari, that's mywork. You know there is a little personal vanity involved here—" Truth, he was disturbed; cornered; and the child was innocent in it, he thought, completely. "Ari, I've had little enough I've really done in my hie; I'd at least like to do the first write-up on it, before it gets sucked up into someone else's work. If it's worth anything. You know there issuch a thing as professional jealousy. And you'll do so much in your life. Leave me my little corner."
She looked put off by that. A line appeared between her brows. "I wouldn't steal from you."
He made it light, a little laugh, grim as it was. "You know what we're doing. Arguing like the first Ari and my father. Over the same damn thing. You're trying to be nice. I know that—"
"I'm not trying to be nice. I'm asking you."
"Look, Ari, —"
"I won't steal your stuff. I don't carewho writes it up. I just want you to show me what you do and how you do it."
He sat back. It was a corner she backed him into, a damned, petulant child used to having her way in the world. "Ari, —"
"I needit, dammit!"
"You don't geteverything you need in this world."
"You're saying I'd steal from you!"
"I'm not saying you'd steal. I'm saying I've got a few rights, Ari, few as they are in this place—maybe I want my name on it. Andmy father's. If just because it's the same last name."
That stopped her. She thought about it, staring at him.
"I can figure that," she said. "I can fixthat. I promise you. I won't take anything you don't want me to. I don't lie,Justin. I don't tell lies. Not to my friends. Not in important things. I want to learn. I want you to teach me. Nobody in the House is going to keep me from having any teacher I want. And it's you."
"You know—if you get me in trouble, Ari, you know what it can do."
"You're not going to get in any trouble. I'm a wing supervisor. Even if I haven't got a wing to work in. So I can make my own, can't I? You. And Grant."
His heart went to long, painful beats. "I'd rather not be transferred."
She shook her head. "Not really move.I've got a Wing One office. It's just paper stuff. It just means my staff does your paperwork. —I'm sorry." When he said nothing in her pause: "I didit."
"Damnit, Ari—"
"It's just paperwork. And Idon't like having stuff I'm working on lying around your office. —I can change it back, if you like."
"I'd rather." He leaned his arms on his knees, looking her in the eye. "Ari, —I told you. I've got little enough in my life. I'd like to hang on to my independence. If you don't mind."
"They're bugging your apartment. You know that."
"I figured they might be."
"If you're in my wing, I can re-route the Security stuff so I get it, same as uncle Denys."
"I don't wantit, Ari."
She gave him a worried, slightly hurt look. "Will you teach me?"
"All right," he said. Because there was no way out of it.
"You don't sound happy."
"I don't know, Ari."
She reached out and squeezed his hand. "Friends. All right? Friends?"
He squeezed hers. And tried to believe it.
"They'll probably arrest me when I get back to the House."
"No, they won't." She drew her hand back. "Come on. We'll all walk up together. I'vegot to get a shower before I go anywhere. But you can tell me what you're working on."
x
They parted company at the quadrangle. He walked on, heart racing as he walked toward the Wing One doors, where the guard always stood, where—quite likely, the guard was getting an advisement over the pocket-corn; or sending one and getting orders back.
He had seen enough of Security's inner rooms.
He walked through the door, looked at the guard eye to eye—offering no threat, trying without saying a thing to communicate that he was not going to be a problem: he had had enough in his life of being slammed face-about against walls.
"Good day, ser," the guard said, and his heart did a skip-beat. "Good day," he said, and walked on through the small foyer into the hall, all the way to the lift, all the time he was standing there expecting to get a sharp order from behind him, still expecting it all the way down the hall upstairs. But he got as far as his office, and Grant was there, unarrested, looking worried and frayed at the edges.
"It's all right," he said, to relieve the worst of Grant's fears. "Went pretty well. A lot better than it could have." He sat down, drew a breath or two. "She's asked me to teach her."
Grant did not react overmuch. He shrugged finally. "Denys will put the quietus on that."
"No. I don't know whatin hell it is. She got us transferred. I," he said as Grant showed alarm, "got us transferred backto Yanni's wing. But right now—and until she gets it straight with Security—we're not Wing One. That's how serious it is—if she's telling the truth; and I haven't a reason in the world to doubt it. She wantsme to work with her. She's been talking with Yanni about my work, Yanni told her—damn him—he thinks I'm on some kind of important track, and young sera wantswhat I know, wants me to show her everything I'm working on."
Grant exhaled a long, slow breath.
"So, well—" Justin swung the chair around, reached for his coffee cup and got up to fill it from the pot. "That's the story. If Security doesn't come storming in here— You want a cup?"