Regenesis

“I know it’s not going to last.”

“Isn’t it? Got a date when they’re going to stop bugging my apartment? Got a date when I can go into my son’s extravagant palace?”

“You know I don’t. Maybe, to a large extent, Dad, that depends on you.”

“Right next door to the little princess. Convenient for sex. Is that what you do for your keep?”

He said nothing, speared a bite of his di

“Ser?”

“Ser, hell. I’m Justin. Remember?”

Paul’s face was generally somber. It remained that way–with good cause, tonight. “I remember.”

“Grant,” Jordan said, and Justin felt his heart kick up another notch. He couldn’t help it. And he resented that, resented Jordan having anything to do with Grant these days. “Are you taking good care of my boy? In every respect?”

“No problems, ser.” Grant’s voice was perfectly light and smooth, not a twitch. “Thank you.”

“You came through all the troubles in good shape.”

“Absolutely, Ser.”

“Have you ever needed a supervisor, beyond what you have?”

“Damn it, Jordan, just enjoy your di

“I was just asking. Concerned.”

“The hell.” Grant’s welfare and their relationship and the number of times Grant had needed a supervisor wasn’t a topic he wanted opened up. The past wasn’t. He didn’t want to list the things that had changed his relationship with Grant into a sexual one. He didn’t want Jordan’s commentary on their existence. They all ate in prickly silence for a space, except that Paul asked how long they should have to wait for Library access, which seemed a fairly minor request.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Justin said patiently. “That’s something you might legitimately ask Ya

“One often thousand little nuisances,” Jordan said. “I need my own past articles. I don’t think I’m going to blow up the laboratories with information I’d find in my own damned articles, would I?”

“We do have an inquiry going in Ya

“He’s back now. This evening. Give him a day to get his feet on the ground. I’m sure he’ll give you that access.”

“Well, I’m sure I’m not a priority,” Jordan said sourly, and shoved his plate back. He’d mostly picked the chicken out of his salad and eaten a little of the green. “In any respect.”

Justin decided he was through. Grant was hardly eating. “Shall we order dessert?”

“Out of the mood, thanks.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s sad,” Jordan said. “We were one mind, once and long ago. Remember that? We were happy, then.”

“I remember you and Ari Emory got into a fight and Grant and I ended up on the short end of it. I’m not looking for a replay, Dad. If you want to pick a fight with Admin, just excuse me out of it this time.”

“Why don’t you come over for drinks after di

“Did that, thanks,” Justin said. “Had enough to drink tonight, as is, and so have we all. Late supper and I’m going to bed. I’ve got a meeting in the morning.”

“Oh?”

“We’re conferring on a psychset,” Justin said.

“What stem?”

“Oh, out of the old Reza GLX tree,” Justin said, which actually was the truth, and he watched Jordan drink it in and jog a doubtless rusty memory, eyes momentarily i

“Worker set, isn’t it?”

“There’s a new lab upriver. Or will be. It’s quite a project. Research and light manufacture.”

“And you’re picking the sets that go there?”

“Can’t discuss that one. Sorry” He wasn’t sure he should have said as much as he had. But it was common knowledge, and the answer he’d given didanswer Jordan’s question.

“And how soon does this new enterprise arise from the wasteland?”

“Awhile yet. They’ve only built the bunker as is, for the first workers. Precips are mostly built, but not online.”

“The little darling’s precocious ambition? Or Ya

“Hers, as far as I know.”

“And only eighteen. What are we calling this installation?”

“I don’t know.”

“But with azi all picked out for it. And what CIT population? Is this where she’s sending all the dissidents?”

It wasn’t far off the mark, and Jordan Warrick could easily turn up on that list, but he didn’t want it to happen and he didn’t let his expression change, knowing that was exactly what Jordan was implying.

“I haven’t a clue about that.”

“Oh, come, you’re consulting on the psychsets of the azi component, the things they’re supposed to counter. You know damned well what CIT profile the azi will fit around, clear as a footprint.”

“Well, if I guessed, I’d be a fool to say, and you didn’t sire a fool, Dad, so give it up.”

“And she thought of this all on her own.”

“You’re assuming things I’ve never said.”

The waiter came, offering dessert. “No, thanks,” Justin said. “Just the bill.”

“Yes, ser,” the waiter said, having gotten his instructions, it seemed: the waiter tapped his handheld and called up a bill.

Thank God it was fast. Justin swept his keycard through the offered handheld and keyed a reasonable tip on a monumental charge. He gave it to the waiter, kept a pleasant smile on his own face as he pushed his chair back, and maneuvered himself between Jordan and Grant as they all got up and walked out.

“So where is this place?” Jordan asked, as they passed between the columns on their way out. “The new construction?”

“Not that far upriver.”

“Light manufacture? I just wonder what they’ll be making up there that we don’t have here. Or mining there that we can’t get elsewhere.” Jordan’s face was grim. “Oh, I have the picture, believe me. It’s no more manufacture than it is a recreation spot.”

“Assumptions are a bitch. They just don’t get you to any good outcome.”

“Lectures from my son?”

Dead stop. He faced Jordan. “I passed my majority some years ago, Dad. And you know it’s damned likely we’re bugged. So what in hell are you doing? Trying to piss off Ya

“Are you afraid? Have they made you afraid?”

“The answer is no. No. I’m not afraid. I’m comfortable. I support Ya

Jordan stayed beside him, Paul just behind. “Too beaten‑down. Too little fire. I missed your growing‑up.”

“Oh, plenty you missed, I assure you. You didn’t miss anything good. But that’s what we dealt with while you had your own troubles. It’s finished. Done is done. If you didn’t kill Ari–”

“I didn’t. You know it was a frame.”

He stopped, beyond the columns, in the public corridor, and faced Jordan. “I reserve judgement. You might have killed her–to protect your investment in me. Or Denys Nye thought she was going to die anyway, and a clone would be manageable, especially in his hands; and you weren’t co