Inherit the Earth

“How well do you know her?” Damon asked.

“Not that well,” Le

She was only just eighteen, Damon thought. Silas was a hundred and ten years older than she was. What on earth was the point . . . ? He strangled the thought. It was obvious what the point was. The fact that they were a hundred and ten years apart wasthe point. “Get to the bottom line, Le

“Nothing definite—but I tried to get in touch with her. I tried hard, Damon. I talked to some of the others—other Birthdate 2175 people, that is. Interpol had already talked to a couple of them, the ones who were her closest friends. Damon, it’s not on the news and I can’t be absolutelysure, but I think she’sdisappeared too. She’s not at home, and she’s not anywhere else she’d be likely to be. Her foster parents are covering, but it’s obvious they’re worried. The other Birthdaters said that she couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with Arnett being taken by the Eliminators, but they’re as certain as I am that her foster parents don’t have the slightest idea where she is—and it isn’t because she left home to run with the gangs, like I did.”

“Does Madoc know this?” Damon asked.

“Probably—but I can’t get through to him. I didn’t want to say too much to that woman. She doesn’t seem to be on your side, even though she says she’s your girlfriend.”

“That’s okay. Keep trying to get through to Madoc, though. He must be in some place where he can’t take calls right now, but he’s bound to move on. Give him what you can when you can—and thanks for your help. I have to go now.”

“Wait!” The boy’s expression was suddenly urgent—as if he feared that this would probably be the last chance he ever had to talk to his hero, or at least his last chance to have the advantage of just having done his hero a small favor.

Damon didn’t have the heart to cut him off. “Make it quick, Le

“I just want to know,” the boy said. “Madoc says that I can be good at it—that I show promise, even though Brady cut me up so easily. He says that if I keep at it . . . but he would, wouldn’t he? He gets the tapes whether I win or lose, to him it’s just raw material—but you’re a real fighter and you don’t have any reason to lie. Just tell me straight, Damon. Am I good enough? Can I make it, if I give it everything I’ve got?”

Damon suppressed a groan. Even though Le

“I can only tell you what I think, Le

“If Madoc’s given you the same spiel he gave me he’ll have told you that the human body renews itself every eight years or so—that all the cells are continually being replaced, on a piecemeal basis, to the extent that there’s hardly an atom inside you now that was there when you were nine years old, and hardly an atom that will be still with you when you’re twenty-five. That’s true—but the inference he intends you to take, which is that it doesn’t matter what you do to your body now because you’ll have a brand-new one in ten years’ time is false and dangerous. That constant process of reproduction isn’t perfect. It’s like taking a photocopy of a photocopy of a photocopy—every time an error or flaw creeps in it’s reproduced, and gradually exaggerated.

“Your internal technology will increase the number of times you can photocopy yourself and still be viable, but the errors and flaws will still accumulate—and everything you do to create more flaws will cost you at the far end of your life. In a few days’ time you won’t be able to see the scars that Brady’s knife left, but you should never make the mistake of thinking that you’ve been fixed up as good as new. There’s no such thing. If you want my advice, Le

The expression on the boy’s face said that this wasn’t the kind of judgment he had expected. He had braced himself against the possibility of being told that he might not be good enough to make the grade, but he hadn’t braced himself against this. He opened his mouth, but Damon didn’t want to know what he was going to say.

“Don’t blow your chance to ride the escalator all the way to true emortality, Le

Damon knew that the lecture was rushed, but he didn’t have time to fill in all the details and he didn’t have time to take questions. Le

“I really have to go, Le

Twelve

K

arol Kachellek was still in the workroom where he and Damon had watched the tape of Silas Arnett’s mock trial. When Damon came back he was under the phone hood and the room was unlit, but he came out as soon as he realized that he wasn’t alone and brushed the light-switch on his console. Damon hadn’t managed to catch the last few words Karol had spoken before signing off but he blushed slightly anyway, as if walking into a darkened room were an infallible sign of stealthy intent.

Damon was all set for more verbal fencing, but the bioscientist was in a very different state of mind now.

“I’m sorry, Damon,” Kachellek said, with unaccustomed humility. “You were right. This business is far more complicated than I thought—and it couldn’t have come at a worse time.”

“What’s it all about, Karol?” Damon asked quietly. “You do know, don’t you?”

“I only wish I did.” The unprecedented plaintiveness in his foster father’s voice made Damon want to believe that he was sincere. “You mustn’t worry, Damon. It will all be sorted out. I don’t know who’s doing this, or why, but . . . . ” As the blond man trailed off, Damon stared at him intently, wondering whether the red flush about his brow and neck was significant of anger, anxiety, embarrassment, or some synergistic combination of all three.