Regenesis

So they both went through the motions. The pretense of familial affection. The reality of outrage. “Don’t use up your credit with him. This was bound to happen. They’re not going to like us working together. You knew that when you pushed it.”

“ You mean she’s not going to like it.”

“Look, you’ve got to settle in, start producing again, start your work up…let them see you haven’t lost a beat. That’s what’s important. Get current with things… I understand they’re going to give you that office.”

“ Current!”

“All right, yes, I’m sure that’s an issue among the younger researchers.” It was, and a painful one, which he used with only the faintest twinge of shame. “Get a new project going. And since you’re in that office alone with Paul, there won’t be any question what’s my work and what’s yours.”

There was just a little silence on the other side. As if his son’s work was going to overshadow his, as if, if it was any good, no one would believe he did it. That was going to sting. And he did it deliberately, knowing how instinctively jealous and competitive his father was. Jealousy had been the core issue with Jordan and the first Ari, that Jordan wouldn’t be second to her…he’d tried to be her equal partner in research, and that hadn’t worked, because the first Ari hadbeen smarter than Jordan, just like the second. Heaccepted that fact of life, with his Ari. Jordan hadn’t ever been able to. He didn’t know what he felt at the moment, but it was perilously close to unreasoning anger–which didn’t damned well help in a fencing match with his father.

“ That’s the way it is, is it?” Jordan asked. “ That’s the concern she has, just so solicitous to have me look good? Pardon me if I don’t buy it.”

“I don’t either, Jordan, but there’s a certain assumption around the labs that you’re so many years behind the times, that you can’t possibly overcome–”

“ The hell! The hell I am! And the hell I can’t!”

“It’s the next generation, dad. They don’t know you. Just produce. They’ll learn who you are.”

“ Who I am? Damned right they will!”

Jordan broke the co

Grant lifted a well‑controlled eyebrow. “Breakfast?”

BOOK ONE Section 2 Chapter iv

APRIL 26, 2424

1302H

Message from Hicks, director of Reseune Security, to sera’s security: Consultation urgently needed.

It might involve the card–if Hicks was ru

They could say no. They could hold onto the card and force Ya

“I’ll likely be a while,” Florian said, while leaving the security station.

“All secure here,” Catlin said. “I’ll hold things down. It wouldn’t be good to a

“No,” he agreed. “It wouldn’t.”

He took the card with him, carefully protected in an envelope–its disposition dependent on what he heard from Hicks: maybe he would turn it over, maybe not, and Hicks would not lay hands on him, not if Hicks wanted his career. He headed out, downstairs, out of the wing and over to Admin, to an office that supervised his kind, but not him, not Catlin, and no one else inside sera’s apartment.

ReseuneSec was operationally directly responsible to Ya

Over to Admin, upstairs to the executive level, down the corridor from Ya

He went to the desk. “Florian AF, Sera Ariane Emory’s bodyguard. The director called.”

The receptionist immediately lost the preoccupied look. “Ser. You’re expected.” He stood up and personally escorted Florian down a carpeted hall straight to the director’s office, past cameras and other devices–no matter all the waiting CITs back there.

That was gratifying, on sera’s behalf. It made a good impression–so far.

“Florian AF.”

A man with dark hair, dark good looks, and a gold bar indicating a colonel’s rank, intercepted him and the receptionist both.

Kyle AK. Alpha azi. Hicks’ aide.

“Ser.” Kyle AK outranked him. And might prevent him, but he would notdo business with a substitute. He eyed Kyle AK with a certain reserve, just stared at him, at a dead stop, and the receptionist retreated.

“The message was from the Director,” Florian said. “I’ll seethe Director.”

“To be sure,” Kyle AK said smoothly, and opened the door that said Adam Hicks, Director, Reseune Securityin gold letters.

He walked in with Kyle AK, facing a silver‑haired, square‑faced man at a desk.

Suit, not uniform. That was Hicks, CIT, and never trained in green barracks, not an expert in actual practice, only in administration. He’d gotten the services of Kyle AK, a very highly trained alpha, former Fleet service. And it was widely suspected that Kyle AK was and had been the source of no little policy and no few orders in ReseuneSec…but it was the born‑man who held the office and signed the papers.

“Ser,” Florian said. “Florian AF. You called sera’s office.”

Hicks got up from his chair and offered his hand across the desk, again, proper behavior. “Florian AF. A pleasure. Have a seat.”

“Ser,” Florian said, placing hands in the back of his belt and continuing to stand, post‑handshake, as Hicks sat down: he had reached a decision. “Jordan Warrick surreptitiously passed a calling card with a contact number to Justin Warrick. The younger Warrick volunteered the card to me when I intercepted him on the quadrangle, and made no further comment. I think you’ll know that from my report.”

“Do you have the card with you?” Hicks asked him.

“Yes. May I have your word, ser, we’ll have the benefit of your investigation? This regards a person under sera’s authority.”

“Agreed. Absolutely agreed.”

Florian reached into his jacket front and pulled out the envelope. Hicks took it and laid it on the desk in front of him.

“What do you know about the card?” Hicks asked.

“The number, ser, belongs to a Dr. Sandur Patil, University of Novgorod.”

Hicks’s face betrayed very little. He was good, in that regard. “Researcher and professor. Did the Director brief you who she is?”

“Scheduled for promotion to a directorship at Fargone. Yes, ser. Director Schwartz said so, in conversation with my principal.”

Hicks nodded slowly. “How far did he brief her?”

“Perhaps farther than he briefed you, ser, so I shouldn’t go into specifics.”