Regenesis

My office hasn’t gotten anything solid for me yet on the ongoing puzzles we’re Working. The questions are all still questions. But at least I’m about to refuse to be confined to the Wing and I intend to start asking questions of my own.

BOOK ONE Section 3 Chapter iii

MAY 2, 2424

1342H

Florian opened the office door, and Ari slipped into the space where two men, one extravagantly red‑haired, one common brown, were busy earning a living.

Or at least–they’d been trying to.

“Hello!” she said in her brightest tone, and Grant half‑turned and raised an eyebrow. Justin swiveled his chair around, leaned back against its auto‑adjust, and crossed a foot over his knee.

“Well,” he said. “Is it trouble?”

“Oh, never.” There wasn’t another chair. It wasn’t her scheduled day to be here, and she hadn’t been in this office ever, though Justin and Grant had moved in nearly a week ago. These two didn’t do patient‑consultations, and they no longer had staff, nor any room for them, so there was no available chair for a visitor. She had to stand, and simply leaned back against the wall, until Grant, seeing the situation, surrendered his with a small flourish. “You’re so sweet,” she said, and patted Grant on the arm. “We’ve got to get other chairs in here. At least one more.”

“I’ll arrange that,” Grant said, and as Florian rotated past the door frame and out into the corridor, Grant left, too, leaving the two of them alone to talk, herself and Justin.

“I so love the idea of your being in the Wing,” she said to him.

“It seems safer,” Justin said. “So I take it we’re not on the current arrest list.”

“Don’t joke like that. I’m not Denys. I won’t beDenys.”

“I know you’re not. Are we revising the schedule for lessons today, or–”

“We’re keeping to schedule. I’m sorry I haven’t been here this week. I’ve been studying.”

“I thought we agreed you were going to get some rest.”

“Well, it’s important. I’m onto something.”

“What?”

“What we were talking about. The integrations. But I’ll talk about that later. Monday.”

“Sure. Good.” Justin made a gesture toward the other counter. “Coffee?”

“I wouldn’t mind that, thank you.” She watched as he got up and poured a cup. Her stomach suddenly said empty. “You wouldn’t have a biscuit, would you?”

“As a matter of fact, we do,” Justin said, as he opened a packet and laid a tea‑biscuit on a paper saucer. And another for good measure. He gave her that saucer with the coffee. “The place came stocked.”

“I really hope you like the office.”

“I’m getting used to it.”

She regarded Justin’s first office with deep nostalgia. She remembered slipping by and giving him a gift of guppies. They hadn’t lived.

Those days had seemed so much safer. She’d been out and about, un‑watched, or she’d had the illusion she’d been unwatched–and never likely was. And he wasn’t there anymore.

She washed down a biscuit in two bites and a sip and tried to put the past out of her mind. “Mmm. I had breakfast. But I’ve been studying a lot and I know I’m getting ski

“I doubt they will.”

A second biscuit went down. That freed a hand to reach into her jacket pocket. “Here.” She handed him the data stick she’d brought “I’ve looked at it. I want you to.”

“What?” Justin looked amused. “You can do that. I’ve no doubt you can do it.”

“Not the theta stuff. These are staff. All sorts of staff. They’ll be mine. I want you to look them over and make sure there aren’t any bombs.”

His face went sober, thoughtful as he picked up the stick. He gave her a look, like he wanted to ask a question, and maybe thought it wasn’t wise to ask it at all.

“I trust you,” she said. It wouldn’t make him easier in his mind. She read him that well. He’d been through too much with Denys. He’d just had the row with his father and he knew Admin was upset. He was in a state of disturbance and flux, unable to settle, either physically or mentally, and he probably wasn’t getting a lot of work done. “I need it really soon.”

He nodded somberly and laid the data stick atop the books on his desk. “I’ll put it at the top of my list.”

“I know about the card,” she said, and saw his face suddenly go cold and wary. He wasn’t looking at her. Wasn’t looking at anything in particular. “I’m sorry you got into it,” she said, and he still didn’t look at her. “What do youthink your father’s up to?”

“I haven’t a clue.” He did look her way, and the hard face gave way to the old Justin, the very worried Justin, who had stood off Uncle Denys–confronting her, now, as the prevailing threat in his life, andhis hope of tranquility. “I really haven’t.”

“You know he’s under surveillance. He knows he is. He’s mad about it. I’m really sorry, Justin. I’m sorry he did that.”

He was upset. And the look was a little less protected, a little more the real Justin, worried, and on his guard. “Do you know what it’s about?” he asked her flat out…maybe a little ashamed to be asking. She read that. Ashamed of the situation with his father. Ashamed of havingto ask an outsider to the relationship.

“My staff is trying to find out,” she said quietly. “I don’t really know what it’s about. He’s not that easy to read. But I’d say he didn’t expect you to keep that card a secret.”

“I’m sure of that much,” he said.

She wanted to ask–what do youwant me to do with Jordan? But that wouldn’t be fair to ask, and the hurt would outlast the good it would do. Justin would never forgive himself, not inside, if he asked her to send Jordan away. In a technical way, neither of them had had real parents. In an emotional way, they’d both lost the single parent they’d been most attached to. They were alike, on that one emotional sore point. Something had happened, when Jordan handed Justin that card, and they had to patch it up, and try to bring back the even tenor of the lessons, the conferences, the work together. It wasn’t going to happen automatically. Jordan had already had that effect–Jordan, and the twitch of security, proving it was still alive.