“That depends.” I glowered at him. “What was it supposed to do?”
“We didn’t know. I just siphoned some from the tank that didn’t blow. I figured if Acme was experimenting on us, we should return the favor.”
“You had to know he’d go after Gloria!” I shouted. “You had that can ready, knowing Andre would go after your mother. You planned this!”
See, even in my anger at injustice, the legal instincts kick in. He was talking premeditated murder. Almost. And I was the prosecutor. I really didn’t want to prosecute Paddy for murder. He had given Andre the can. He had to have expected her to go berserk. Was that murder?
“I had no idea what the gas would do, and I did not tell Andre to use it on anyone,” Paddy argued wearily. I wanted to believe him. “What happened?”
“You killed your mother,” I said bluntly.
Both old men instantly appeared older, more tired and gray, with new lines etched in their skin. I hated causing them pain, but a woman had died. My instinct was to seek justice, no matter how wicked she’d been.
“She was a lovely woman once,” Julius said, almost apologetically. “Very gracious.”
“Until my father died and she sold her soul,” Paddy said, surprisingly. “I thought at first she was just working too hard, learning how to run the company. I don’t think he left her in as strong a financial position as she’d expected. I tried to help but I’m a scientist, not a financier.” He gazed into the distance, as if trying to remember—or decide how much to reveal.
“My cousin Cynthia’s husband steered some government contracts to Acme,” he finally continued. “Since Cynthia’s father left her some Acme shares when he died, Mike had a family interest in keeping it running.”
Sleazy former Senator Mike MacNeill was Max’s father. Dane had stepped into his political shoes after MacNeill pulled some shady deals—probably using his influence to get Acme government contracts. Mike’s illegal activities were likely why Dane had had to place all his assets in a blind trust when he ran for Mike’s seat.
“We hired new management,” Paddy continued. “When they brought in the new element, my mother suddenly became obsessed with the company.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair.
“Gloria was always good to us,” Julius said wearily. “I wasn’t earning enough as a prosecutor to put Andre through private school, but she and Katerina’s mother were old friends. Gloria saw that he received scholarships. The Vanderventers probably helped me get appointed judge. And when I vacated the bench to care for Katerina, she hired Andre to work at the plant after he came home and couldn’t settle down.”
“PTSD,” Paddy said, as if repeating an old tale. “Andre went through hell overseas, fighting two wars and terrorists. He just needed time to get his head straight. He would have been fine.”
“But that’s when things started turning sour,” Julius argued. “In return for giving Andre a job, she wanted me to use my influence in favor of a rezoning to shut down Edgewater and the neighborhood.”
I listened, keeping my big mouth buttoned. These old guys were spilling secrets Andre would never have told me.
“That was back before the chemical flood, when Acme first obtained the magic element and needed to expand.” Paddy nodded in agreement. “That’s when it all went south.” He glanced up to me. “What happened today?”
Damn, I’d hoped they’d keep talking.
“Andre sprayed the gas in the can,” I said slowly, waiting to see if they would exhibit any understanding of what that meant. Both watched me with curiosity and nothing more. “Gloria went berserk.”
They turned to the woman in the bed. One whispered, “Damn.” The other just sighed.
15
Before I went home, I jogged down to the tunnel to check on our patients. Milo found a cushion in Andre’s place and appropriated it, declining to come with me.
The med students were now ensconced in the theater with the more ordinary zombies. Tim hadn’t rescued Leibowitz but had brought two more of the homeless guys. Since yesterday, the baby docs had decided the new healthiness of their patients had something to do with the IV nutrients. They were excitedly talking about getting grants to study homelessness, disease, and nutrition. So maybe something good would come of the gas, should the victims ever awaken—though that wasn’t looking likely.
With Katerina back in the tower, Sarah slept in lonely splendor in the official infirmary. Cora glanced up her from her smart phone when I entered. “Thank goodness! I gotta pee!”
She dashed out, leaving me to wonder what I was supposed to do. I could only stare sadly at a woman who had led a harsh life, one who’d not had many opportunities before Acme took her out. I hoped Julius would massage Sarah and keep her IV filled as he did for his wife, because we couldn’t risk the med students in here. And I knew nothing about caretaking.
I sank onto Cora’s seat, feeling useless, tired, and hungry. I wondered if Themis had answered my chewing-gum message. I hadn’t been back to my place to find out.
Strangely, I wasn’t as concerned about the question I’d asked as I was worried about Themis. As far as I knew, she could be part of my whacked-out imagination, but I had a hankering for a grandmotherly role model, I guess. I didn’t want her lying comatose in Acme’s secret labs.
My only other family was my mother, but she was in Peru. Which meant that, with Sarah out, I didn’t have a lot of mentoring happening on this Saturn’s daughter business.
“I’m fine,” a throaty voice with a hint of humor said out of the blue. Or was that out of the pink?
I almost fell off the stool I was perched on. I’d thought I was alone. I glanced around the antiseptic steel office. I was alone. Except for Sarah.
I stared, but I could have sworn she hadn’t moved. A hospital white blanket still neatly covered her chimp appendages. Besides, Sarah had one of those baby-sweet, whispery voices. What I’d heard had sounded like a cigarette smoker’s husky alto.
“Hello?” I said tentatively, wondering if IV stands could speak. “Who’s there?”
“Your madarbozorg, aziz.”
The voice seemed to come from Sarah, but not an inch of her frizzy beehive stirred, although her lips might have.
Madarbozorg? The foreign mouthful almost seemed familiar, but I couldn’t translate it.
“Visualizing is an unusual gift, aziz,” the voice spoke again, a little more distantly, as if too many words were difficult to project. “Use it for harm, and justice will be served. Use it for profit, and you will pay.”
I’d asked Themis if I’d be punished for visualizing. I hadn’t been specific. “Themis?” I asked tentatively. I still didn’t know if she was crazier than me, but Max had assured me that these weird messages really came from my grandmother. Of course, he’d been in hell at the time.
Sarah’s eyelids flickered. For a moment, I thought I saw black irises instead of Sarah’s blue. I held my breath in anticipation, and then Sarah morphed entirely to monkey form right before my eyes.
I fell backward, knocking the stool over in my haste to escape.
Sarah was faster. Emitting a chimpanzee cry, she leaped for my neck.
Did I mention the chimp had strangled two strong men?
She wrapped her long arms around my head and her legs around my waist. I was strangling simply from the stench of unwashed chimp when Cora returned, waving her fancy phone at me.
“I believe this one’s for you,” Cora cried, before screeching to a halt inside the door, her eyes widening. “Rather you than me,” was her helpful comment.