Against Gravity

"Mr Gallmon, what possible reason could I have to lie?"

Kendrick shook his head. "Look, the nanotech used on us is designed to be self-evolving. No two Lab- no two Augments are quite the same in the ways their augmentations develop and grow, and that's why there is no single cure. That's why there can't be any single cure."

"But you have been taking a treatment that has nonetheless stabilized your condition."

"Fine, I admit defeat, you're right. I never expected to find a cure."

"Maybe 'cure' is the wrong word," said Draeger. "Let's say technology moves on, and we have ways of helping you. Do you want our help?"

"You said you wanted information about other Labrats. Why?"

"You're aware of the recent deaths among survivors of the Maze experiments?" Kendrick nodded. "There are elements within Los Muertos who see people such as yourself as a barrier to their goals."

"Are there? We're not any danger to them at all, though I wish we were. Why start attacking us now?" Kendrick remembered Whitsett dying in front of him.

"All right, we've been pussyfooting around this for too long." Draeger put down his drink and leant against the arm of a couch, his arms folded. "I've recently become aware of a plan on the part of certain of your fellow Labrats to arrange a flight to the Archimedes orbital research platform. I can't allow any such thing unless it's under my direct authority. Otherwise I'd feel within my rights to take serious and drastic action to prevent what amounts to piracy."

"I'm afraid," said Kendrick carefully, "that I've only just become aware of this myself."

Draeger glanced at him sharply. "You were in Ward Seventeen in the Maze, were you not?"

"What about it?"

Draeger glared at him, as if he was trying to work out whether or not he was being made a fool of.

"Look," Kendrick continued, once the silence had stretched out a little too long, "I don't have the ear of any of these people. Some of them keep in touch but I don't always go out of my way to reciprocate. Is that why you sent Smeby to Edinburgh? To spy on me?"

"All right. I'm sorry, Mr Gallmon. We seem to be at cross purposes. Perhaps I've made some assumptions that I shouldn't have. However, my offer still stands. I'm seeking information on certain people – Labrats -who are intending to infiltrate the Archimedes.''''

Kendrick laughed in astonishment. "You want me to spy on them?"

"That's not the precise word I would use. However, you are – or were – an investigative journalist, one with an excellent reputation."

"Who else have you made this offer to?" Kendrick fired back. "How many other Labrats have you tried to persuade to spy on each other? Or am I really the first?"

Draeger stared at him evenly. "Perhaps you don't appreciate what I'm offering you. Your augmentations are killing you slowly, and I'm offering you the opportunity to live."

Kendrick tried to think of an answer to that. On the long flight to Cambodia he had found himself with too much time to think about the events of the past several days. What was it, he had wondered, that had driven Hardenbrooke first to extend the same promise as Draeger – of a way for Kendrick to live without fear of his augmentations – and then to attempt to kill or kidnap him?

And, of course, he had overheard Hardenbrooke refer directly to Smeby. Now that he was here and being offered a miracle cure for the second time, it didn't take a great leap of imagination to see the co

"I wondered why you invited me out here, why you sent Smeby after me. At first it didn't make sense why you'd show such an interest in me. But you did, and there had to be a reason for that. I was put in touch with an American medic called Hardenbrooke, by a man named Mikhail Vasilevich. Hardenbrooke gave me a series of treatments that seemed to halt the rogue growth of my augmentations in its tracks. He too talked about permanent cures."

Draeger listened impassively.

"The next thing that happens, an old friend turns up out of the blue and tells me that I can't trust Hardenbrooke, that he's dangerous; that he's pumped me full of something else along with the stuff that's supposedly curing me, and which allows him or whoever he's working for to gather information about me."

Draeger nodded appreciatively. "It's an entertaining fantasy, but still only a fantasy."

"I don't know that it is. What's the real benefit to you of bringing me here and offering me a cure? An act of sheer charity?" Kendrick shook his head. "Of course it isn't. You've already told me what you want in return. Otherwise why offer the cure just to me? Why not to all the other Labrats too? No, this way you get me to jump through some hoops for you."

Draeger didn't speak but his expression was getting angry. "Thing is," Kendrick continued, "I could never be sure before where Hardenbrooke got the stuff he was using on me. But now I know: he got it from you."

"This is nonsense-"

"No, it's the truth, isn't it?" Kendrick snapped. "The one thing I do know is that Hardenbrooke is scared of you. The treatments he gave me came from your research. Everything makes sense if he and Vasilevich were both working for you. But they double-crossed you, didn't they? They supplied the same information that they obtained to Los Muertos."

It fitted perfectly. Draeger knew that Hardenbrooke had cheated him, so he'd taken matters directly in hand by inviting Kendrick to Cambodia. Kendrick met Draeger's eye and knew he was right.

A silence ensued. Kendrick saw Draeger glance past him and realized they were no longer alone. The breath caught in his throat as he turned to see that Smeby had silently re-entered the room. Nobody could sneak up on a Labrat like that without them hearing. Unless, of course, he reminded himself, they too were augmented.

Smeby caught his gaze for a moment and Kendrick turned away, suddenly less sure of himself.

"All right," said Draeger. "I can see you're not interested in anything I have to say. However, I would nevertheless like to send a message."

"Who to?" Kendrick laughed. "I'm not your messenger boy."

"If you don't want me to help you, then perhaps you'd care to tell your friends from Ward Seventeen that if they want to get to the Archimedes they're going to need my help. Or else they're going to die, for all their efforts. Tell them that."

"Why don't you tell them yourself?"

"I am telling them – through you."

"To be frank with you, Mr Draeger, I don't see why I should do any such thing. Even if I knew where to find them."

Draeger's smile was thin, humourless. "Maybe you'll change your mind in time. Mr Smeby, would you escort our guest to his homeward flight?"

Kendrick watched as Draeger turned and headed back behind his desk, ignoring him now.

Don't let him win this one by losing your temper.

Draeger clearly didn't believe that Kendrick had no special inside knowledge of anyone's plans concerning the Archimedes. Now it was up to Kendrick to find a way to capitalize on that mistake – and if Draeger wasn't prepared to illuminate things any further, then Kendrick would have to figure out what was going on by himself.

"What is it that keeps you here, Smeby?"

They were back outside now, descending the steep stone steps to where the little electric car still waited. Kendrick had suffered a brief terror that Draeger had no intention of letting him go, that he was caught in a trap. But nothing threatening had happened.

Then again, he realized, if Draeger kept him here Kendrick would never be able to deliver his message.

"He offered to make you better," Smeby replied. "Perhaps you should have taken that offer up."

"On principle, I don't accept anything where I don't know what I'll find myself paying in return."