"You ask some, you answer some. It's called give and take."
"Fair enough. I'll answer it. But first I'd like to know something — those were your guys on that island, right? Crab Island. You were after us, right?"
"Let me repeat something I tried to get through to you last time, on the ferry. You're at a disadvantage here. You don't have a lot of information. You're caught up in something that's big, very big. It's complicated. You don't know who you can trust. So if your question is: were those guys FBI, the answer is, yes, they were. But you asked if they were my guys, and the answer to that is no."
"What are you saying? The agency is split? You have some guys on one side and some on the other?"
"Split is one way to put it. At war is another. Spying, phone tapping, betrayal — you name it. Look, this thing — this conspiracy, whatever you want to call it — I suppose you've figured out by now that it involves some pretty well-connected people. It goes way beyond a couple of crazies who dropped out of medical school because they were convinced they found the fountain of youth."
"Tell me about it."
Raymond sighed. "In a nutshell, there's an inner circle of scientists who have mastered new techniques. Big stuff. Genetic research. They're in league with various high-placed, wealthy individuals. These constitute a conspiracy — I call them 'the Group,' for lack of anything better. It's made up of big names from various power centers — business, politics, the government, the media. They've got millions of dollars at their disposal. Their aims are not altogether clear — other than to keep the work secret, to hold on to the levers of power and to live for a very, very long time."
"How did it get so big?"
"I'm only guessing the general outline. There's this brilliant doctor, right? Rincon. He's loaded with charisma, one of those types who comes along every so often — you just want to follow him, do whatever he says. He's talking about a brave new world. And he delivers — a small investment, a couple of smart medical researchers in an underground lab, and they hit a major breakthrough. They figure out how to clone. First time in history. Mucking about with basic nature — turning two cells into two identical people. That's heady stuff. Now you're prepared to follow this guy anywhere.
"So what do they do with it? The procedure they developed only works at the very earliest stages of life — the fertilized egg. So it has only one application for humans — you can clone an embryo, and that's it. So they cloned their own children shortly after conception. Like you. Like your girlfriend. That much you've already figured out. The original impulse was parental love, mixed with a healthy dose of narcissism. If you can't live forever, at least fix it so your children can. Part of you will endure. Which brings us to what the clones are for. That's the gruesome part — and not incidentally, the illegal part. They're there to supply organs for transplant. You need a new liver, you've got one — your own private stock. So basically, you're creating a whole subclass of humans who are just there to serve you. They're grown to be harvested. Like plants. And you space them out — you have some born five years later, some twenty years later. You keep going."
"The kids on the Nursery. What happened to them?"
"I'll get to that. Don't interrupt. You may learn something. Where was I? You raise the clones on an island. You treat them well — up to a point, because you need them. Your only concern is to isolate them from the general population. Because whatever happens, you can't let them meet up with the originals. That's disaster, because that's when the cat gets out of the bag. As you proved only too well."
"Skyler proved it. He's the one who escaped. I didn't do a damn thing but accost him in the hallway of my building."
"Whatever. Anyway, these scientists are under the spell of this Rincon. He's directing their research. Things are going along okay. They're way ahead of anyone else anywhere in the world. Partly because no one else is really going after it like they are — fanatics, very shrewd, very methodical. Here and there, some legitimate scientists are busying themselves in university labs, but for the most part those guys are regarded as cranks. Sometimes our guys even plant one or two of their own at universities. They do phony experiments on cloning — pretend they've done it, mess it up and end up being disproved. Throw people off the track. Disinformation experiments. Smart, huh?
"Meanwhile they keep working away like busy little beavers in the secret lab. And at some point they succeed beyond their wildest dreams. They are able to clone an already existing adult. We think they made this breakthrough at the underground lab in Jerome — nice work in getting there, by the way. Anyhow, that's really big stuff. That takes it to a higher level. Now you're in the Big Time. Suddenly you can clone anyone. You can clone the President, the postman, your favorite cousin. You can even clone yourself. And that means that you can live forever. Well, not forever, but maybe another fifty, sixty, seventy years. Not bad — a whole second life. All you need to do is raise your clone up some place safe and get him old enough, get him through adolescence."
Jude interrupted. "But these guys, the original scientists — they're already old. They couldn't use a clone as a donor until it was old enough to have full-sized organs."
"You're right. We don't know if the original scientists made clones for themselves. You're not so dumb for a reporter. But you still have to learn something."
"What?"
"Don't interrupt when you're finally getting the story."
"Sorry. Go ahead."
"Back to the Lab. The breakthrough is important in another way. It provides you with what you need more than anything else — money. Because now, you see, you can sell your little experiment. It's a dream. Who wouldn't want to buy a longer life? So what if it means you have a clone somewhere — you never see it, you never even really think about it. Maybe you're not even told about it. All you know is you've got your own private little organ bank. It's like insurance. So Rincon and his boys are operating in a sellers' market. They become choosy. They sell it to people of influence. Very hush-hush. A discreet visit to the office. And once they're hooked, they're in your little net, and then they'll use their influence on your behalf. So now you have both money and influence. There's no stopping you."
"So the people they sold it to had clones, too?"
Raymond shrugged. "Who the hell knows? We're talking way-out stuff here."
The railroad track came to a bridge over the Delaware. There was a walkway to one side, and Jude crossed the tracks and took it. Raymond looked out over the expanse of water beneath them.
"Christ, where we going? Across the river?"
"Why not? It's a nice walk."
Jude started across the bridge and, reluctantly, Raymond followed. They could feel the wind whipping down the ravine.
Raymond fell quiet. Jude wanted to keep the conversation going.
"So what are they really after?"
"That's a hard question. I'd say this group — the Lab — they made all these important scientific breakthroughs. That's quite a kick, I'm sure. Must make you feel like you're God or something. Playing around with the cradle of life. They're convinced they really can extend human life — and more important, they've been able to convince others that they can, too. They're selling it. Starting at ten million bucks a pop, from what we hear."
"My God. People would really pay that?"
"Are you kidding? You're talking about some of the most powerful people in the country. People at the top of the world — they've got power, money, fame, access. They've got all that, but they're missing something. What is the one thing they all want from life? To be able to hold on to it. If you could offer these people an extra fifty, seventy years — good, productive years — you don't think they'd take it? You don't think they'd do anything to get it?"