“With Paradox you will see yourselves at age one hundred, living more vitally than you do today at forty, fifty, or sixty,” the voice promised.
By the time the yachtsman passed the camera, he looked to be thirty-five or so, a paragon of health and virility. The woman on his arm no longer looked out of place.
“Aging is nothing more than the dying of cells. But reversing this process at the cellular level will reverse the effects that you feel.”
On the screen a CGI animation showed cells dividing; it zoomed in on the DNA strand as the double helix split and reconnected. Tiny links at the end of the chain fell off, drifting from the screen. Those were the telomeres, as Danielle had explained it to him. Like the tips on your shoelaces. When the telomeres were gone the rest of the lace began to fray.
“This is not a resurfacing project designed to hide the damage of age. Nor is it an attempt to make you look younger, or even feel younger — this is a revolution. When you join us you will be remade, younger, stronger, more virile. Youth will no longer be wasted on the young.”
A cheer went up from the audience and Hawker stood amazed. Not because a raft of the wealthy were interested in turning back the hands of time, but because the graphics on the screen showed cellular activity, with labels and subtitles.
These were the very subjects of Ranga’s notes, according to Danielle. More shocking to Hawker was a graphic in the lower corner. It indicated a trial number: Series 951. It might have meant nothing to the others, but Danielle had recalled the lists of experiments ending with Series 951.
The same number Danielle had recounted as the last entry in the notes. Sonia’s presentation was promising to extend life, using the very same data and a virus with the very same trial number that Ranga’s notes had indicated would destroy life.
A seed of anger returned to Hawker’s heart.
The best-case scenario had Sonia as just another snake-oil salesman, promising the rich what they wanted to hear, but Hawker didn’t believe in the best-case scenario.
And the worst: that Sonia’s company and all of this were part of Ranga’s plan, part of the cult’s plan. What better or more ironic way could there be to spread a disease than to get rich people to pay millions for the privilege of being infected. Come here for the serum of life, only don’t expect to live much after you take it.
And if that was the case, it meant something far more sinister was going on.
CHAPTER 21
As the video presentation wound down, Hawker found himself needing space to think. He moved from the window and began examining the service passages of the hotel. He could still hear the spa music in the ballroom, although the voice-over had been replaced by a dozen individual speakers and models who were milling around in the crowd, talking in person to the wealthy men and women.
He paid attention to it only sporadically. Instead he studied the back halls of the hotel and the unmarked doors that led to prep rooms, kitchens, and fire escapes. If trouble came, it would be one of these areas that proved to be the weak link in the chain. At the same time, these back-of-the-house areas would allow the greatest chance to escape and evade it; but first, one had to know one’s way around.
He came out of a staging room filled with audiovisual equipment and moved down the hall to an unmarked stairwell. It led up to the heliport that lay above them and down as a type of fire escape.
Down the hall a door to the right was locked; to the left he found a dead end. He turned back and saw two people walking toward him: Sonia and the gray-haired man.
They exchanged glances.
“I’ve got this,” he heard Sonia say.
“Are you sure?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
He kissed her on the cheek and took the stairwell up to the heliport.
“Can I help you find something?” she said to Hawker, sounding very official.
That was a hell of a question. She came closer, moving forward with confidence.
“What makes you think I’m looking for something?” he asked.
She slowed, glancing up the stairs. The sound of footsteps climbing was still audible.
“You were always looking for something when I knew you.”
She didn’t sound so official anymore.
Up close she was even more beautiful than she had been from a distance. Her soulful hazel eyes, her smooth, tan skin glowing against the white hue of the cocktail dress.
“Maybe we all were,” he said.
“Searching for answers together?”
“Better than searching alone,” he added.
As she spoke he noticed a different look in her eyes, a weary sadness she’d hidden behind the smiles and the salesman’s confidence. Truthfully he wondered how she maintained it at all, considering what was going on.
“Did my father send you?” she asked.
The question struck Hawker oddly. Obviously Ranga had tried to contact him, but the way Sonia asked the question, she sounded more upset or aggravated than concerned. The reason hit him suddenly: No wonder she was able to star at this reception, no wonder she was able to hold it together — she didn’t know that her father was gone.
“When did you last speak with him?” he asked.
“Six months ago,” she said. “We had a tenth falling-out. Or maybe an eleventh. This one appears to have stuck.”
If they’d fallen out months ago, he wondered, then how could her data trial match the number of his most recent work? He kept that to himself. She was lying. There could be many reasons for that, the easiest of which was she didn’t know what Hawker was doing here, but if he cornered her now, she would just cover up the lie with another lie.
“Why?” Hawker asked. “What’s been going on?”
She looked away as if deciding where to start. “My father is still a refugee,” she began. “He refuses to—”
Hawker raised a hand, stopping her. He wanted to hear every word, but something was wrong. He glanced up the stairwell. He should have felt a draft when Gray Hair opened the door to the roof. But he hadn’t felt it yet.
He took Sonia by the elbow and moved down the hall.
As a flood of different emotions washed over him, Hawker tried to remain cool. He had to remind himself that the woman in front of him was not the young girl he’d protected years ago. That somehow she was mixed up in what was going on.
“How much do you know about the people your father was working with?”
“Not much. He was always secretive.”
“What caused your falling-out?”
“Life,” she said. “Changes. I couldn’t live his way anymore.”
“I mean specifically.”
“I’m on the board at Paradox,” she said defensively. “Obviously he’s no longer any part of this company, just a name on the founders list.”
“So he was jealous?”
“No,” she said. “He was worried.”
“About what?”
“About what we’re doing,” she said, growing aggravated. “Why are you asking me these things?”
“Something bad has happened,” Hawker said.
Her expression changed, worry replacing the aggravation. She shrank back, beginning to shake. “Please tell me he’s okay,” she said. “Please, Hawker. Please tell me he sent you to find me and talk me into coming back.”
Tears were welling up in her eyes.
“I …”
A group of people turned down the hall, two men and one woman, carrying drinks. They spoke loudly and asked about the restroom.
Sonia got it together and pointed to the doorway just before the stairwell. The guests moved off.