Edge. Part 36

She hugged him. There was a tremble inside her, different from before.

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you in the bedroom."

Not a lover's promise.

"All right."

Richard was sitting in the lounge, watching a straightplay movie, interactive decisions set to default paths. He looked up.

"Hi," said Josh. "You feeling better?"

"I think so."

"OK... Er, I need to put my bag away."

"Come on." Suzanne tugged him.

In her bedroom, he put down the bag.

"The kid looks calmer."

"He doesn't consciously remember what he talked about in trance. I'm inclined to leave it that way. But if it surfaces by itself, then that's all right too. So long as the emotion isn't overwhelming."

"Emotion?"

"He was younger, so there are missing details, things he didn't understand. As near as I can make out, he accompanied his father on a trip to Africa. I'm not sure whether his mother was still alive at that time. I am certain she wasn't with them."

"Africa."

"He was in a lab. There were local and Chinese doctors. What he saw them do to children... it's been buried deep by fright, fear for himself and for his father, because of what he saw. All his anxieties... it was never really a fear of weapons."

"It wasn't?"

"Call it a generalised fear of scalpels."

"But scalpels aren't.... Oh."

"He saw them slice open living kids."

"Virapharm labs?" His fists trembled, forearms becoming bands of tension. "Broomhall's running virapharm labs?"

"There was a bulldog symbol on the wall. It comes from Tyndall Industries Medicales. Hence Timmy, forthe children's wards and drugs.""Tyndall? But virapharm... Outright criminality isn't their style. The kid's confused."

"Not about what he saw," said Suzanne, "however little he understood. One country's illegality is another's modus operandi. modus operandi. Did I mention there were Chinese doctors among the Africans?" Did I mention there were Chinese doctors among the Africans?"

"Chinese influence... That does sound like Africa. You're not sure which country?"

"No. Poor Richard was flying all over the place with his father. It was a confusing time, even before he... saw what he saw."

"s.h.i.t."

He was shaking, unable to help it. Soft flesh splitting Soft flesh splitting open and the boy's head exploding into mist because he was open and the boy's head exploding into mist because he was swinging the rifle up and Josh had to shoot swinging the rifle up and Josh had to shoot and he hated himself for the way he and he hated himself for the way he "Tell me, Josh."

"It was the kid," he said. "Same age as Richard is now, and the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds had armed him with a rifle. I was first into the house and he turned towards me and I fired."

"That's right."

"But" Tears were in his eyes as he turned away. "I enjoyed it. That was... that was the thing. The boy's head blew apart and inside I was laughing. Triumph, because I was alive and he was dead and he was fourteen years old, Suzanne, fourteen and they put him where I had to, had to"

"Yes, you had to, and euphoria is part of the reaction when you save yourself from death. It's the way we're programmed, nothing more."

Josh remembered soldiers laughing hysterically after tragedy, surrounded by the bodies of their comrades as well as the enemy.

"Maybe, but he was only a""Stop." Suzanne touched his face. "Tell me. What do we do next about Richard?"

"I... Sorry. Give me a moment."

He turned away, rubbing his face, knowing she must hate him now.

"All right," he went on, forcing himself. "I'll go talk to Broomhall senior. This Tyndall thing... They're the ones trying to take his corporation down."

"If you're taking Richard, I need to come with you. Whether I go inside the house is a different question."

"It's better for me to go alone."

"Josh, I care about Richard, but I'm thinking about you. Holding Richard here without telling anyone"

"You want to back out?"

"No. But I don't want to cause you trouble that we can avoid. Richard might do better if he stays here, but he might not."

"That's not the way to play it."

"He needs to"

"I'm thinking tactically, not like a therapist, Dr d.u.c.h.esne."

"Oh."

"The first thing I want to talk to Broomhall about is virapharm. How he answers that will determine what I do. You're OK looking after Richard?"

Virapharm. Nanoviral engineering. There were rumours that Chinese state orphanages were oddly cl.u.s.tered around car manufacturing plants, that there were uses for organic substrates in engine control production that Western countries had not explored. Those rumours were not substantiated; but the use of poor Africans for virapharm research, children's bodies used to evolve and incubate new drugs? That was almost a tradition.

"Yes. Let me go through the Africa trip, as I put it together. And his current situation at school, because there's a boy called Zajac..."

She related all she had learned.

"Now go see Broomhall." Her hand on Josh's arm made everything bearable. "I'll be here when you get back."

"And I'll be wherever you want me to be."

"You'd better kiss me, Josh c.u.mberland."

"Come here."

No drug on Earth could compare to the sensation of holding her, kissing her lips. He carried the sensation out with him, scarcely seeing young Richard, floating out of Suzanne's flat and down to the car, which he put in drive.

Time to see the father.

The big gates rolled back, and he drove forward a car's length before stopping again, this time at foot-high metal barriers. They had not been here on his previous visit. Only when the main gates were shut did the inner barriers descend into the ground. It was a good way of controlling the entry of one vehicle at a time. Josh put the car back in drive and continued up to the house. The man who opened the front door was new, his stance erect and solid.

Once inside, another man took over, and then another, leading him through the clean, polished house. All was wood and gla.s.s, rich and impersonal. Their destination was an office at the centre of the house. Inside, Broomhall was sitting behind his desk in what should have been a comfortable chair, but his posture was a web of mismatched tension, his face blotched.

This was a different room than before. Leather hardcopy books, African masks on shelves. Interesting Interesting. Small bronze sculptures, all of them ugly.

Even before the door closed on them, Broomhall said, "I'm not paying you indefinitely, I hope you realise. Time and materials are a fine basis to work on if you deliver results."

"Yes, I know."

"Well, I was half hoping you'd turn up with Richard in your car. I guess that was stupid of me."

"Do you want me to agree or disagree?" Josh pulled his phone out of his pocket. "The boy's still missing and I'm sorry, but if I continue to spend time on it then eventually something will... There."

Blue lights flashed one at a time, chasing each other in a loop around his phone display. He placed the phone face-up on the desk.

"Your spycams" he gestured at the ceiling corners, at one of the African masks "are now showing static. What's the procedure? Do your men burst in after?"

The door clicked open. The a.s.sistant who stood there was dressed in a good suit, his haircut expensive. Plus, his knuckles were swollen and hard, and his gaze was flat.

"Everything's hunky-dory," said Broomhall.

"Sir."

The man backed out and closed the door once more.

"I presume," said Josh, "that a different phrase, like 'Everything's fine,' would have caused him to make a move?"

"What is this? I want to know what the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l you're doing to find my son. If you're just here to milk me for more money, then I suggest you f.u.c.k off now. In fact you're fired, so get out."

"The security company is professional, coming up with the code phrase. Probably they gave you a b.u.t.ton or pad to press, something out of my sight, maybe even inside your shoe."

Broomhall's blotched face altered, his mouth coming open, then closing.

"It's a good setup, outside and in," Josh went on. "And I like the camera-in-the-mask thing, rather cla.s.sic. I'm interested in Africa, so why don't you tell me about it?"

Now the blood drained from beneath Broomhall's skin, leaving only a spiderweb of alcoholic's veins around his nose, like a dried-up river delta somewhere in Africa, where neither rain dances nor silver iodide cloud seeding had any effect, for there were no clouds any more.

"Get out, or I'll"

"Something happened to your son in Africa. I'm wondering if you even know that, and what exactly you and Tyndall Industries were up to." Josh gestured towards the door. "Why those guys out there? A fallingout between good buddies? Are you really a long-term rival of Tyndall? Or was it all a cover until now?"

"What happened to Richard? What do you mean?"

Josh looked at him, wishing he could see with Suzanne's eyes.

"He has a fear of scalpels, hence all blades. Also, his teachers at school failed to tell you about the knife duel he was due to fight, or the bullying that made his life a suffering h.e.l.l, or hadn't you noticed?"

"I" Broomhall's mouth worked. "Scalpels. And... the school?"

"Your trip to Tyndall's virapharm labs in Africa. Richard got lost, and saw some nasty stuff. What I wonder is, why was he too frightened to tell you about it, Broomhall? Was it because he knew you were a sick bullying b.a.s.t.a.r.d, someone who didn't care what happened to a bunch of helpless kids, far away from European law?"

Finally Broomhall's face hardened. He used his hands to push himself to standing.

"I didn't see any kids but I worked out they were there, which is why I've done everything I can to take down that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Tyndall, for all the good it's done me. And now I'm going to lose the lot, so what does it matter?"

"You're not working with Tyndall Industries?"

"I was until I realised how they operated, then I severed every connection. And Richard saw? Why didn't he tell me?"

Josh saw misery, Broomhall's sudden insight into his depth of failure as a parent. Yet Josh's own situation was worse than Broomhall's, because Sophie was gone but Richard Broomhall might be saved. Did that mean fighting the father or saving him as well? That was not yet clear.

"Do you talk much to your son?"

"Well, of course we... Maybe. Maybe not." Broomhall lowered himself back into his chair. "If you've not found anything, at least Richard is probably... I mean, the worst hasn't happened."

"Whether you fire me or keep me on," said Josh, "I'll be invoicing you up to and including yesterday, no more, because I'm focused on results."

"I'm not going to Oh."

"That's right. Result."

Everything about Broomhall's face and body changed. "You've found him!"

"He's safe, well, and I have him protected."

"I need to see""No, you don't," said Josh. "Not if you have enemies watching. I'd expected you to be the target of corporate manoeuvring, not physical danger. Richard's well away from this, and you don't want to lead people to where he is."

"They wouldn't harm him. They're not monsters."