"Why not?" Mr. Briggs demanded, his forehead wrinkling. Sin watched, looking for a hint of what was really going on.
"I told her the situation was under control and not to. I know about your little problem, Dan. I told you I'd take care of the girl, and I meant it."
"You can't let private data be obtained by jackers, Brother Sinclair."
Sin laughed. "There's a lot of things I don't intend to let happen. She did ask, if that's what you're worried about. That brainless little bimbo asked me if she should kill herself, and I told her no. You got a problem with that?"
Mr. Briggs sighed, shoving his head into his hands. "She wouldn't die. We don't know why yet, but Ingénue R1554-9370S-02K16 seems to have averted the error in the code."
"Explain." Because this was what Sin really wanted to know.
Mr. Briggs just lifted his hands. "God's will? On her last diagnostic, she had the same error as the others, but her neurons remained intact. We've lost sixteen of them—that's nearly four billion credits, Legate—and only two didn't have their cybernetic matrix obliterated. The other took severe damage, but not the one you're protecting."
Sin wanted to punch the man in the face. Sixteen girls, and he looked at their net investment cost, not the lives lost. Rissa was nothing more to him than a profit margin! Taking a deep breath, he prayed for patience. The man was talking, maybe he'd say something useful.
"So, I guess my Ingénue isn't a clone?"
Mr. Briggs shook his head. "No. She's not. R1554-9370S-02K16 tested off the scale as a child. She was donated to the program and trained from a very young age. She's received the best education and enhancements we could offer. This has been a long-term project, Legate. We don't want to see it fail any more than you do."
"Were the deceased clones?" Sin asked.
"Most, but not all. The girl who didn't immediately die? She was genetically modified in utero. Two others were early placements, like 'your' Ingénue."
Sin chuckled. "If she'd tell me her name, maybe I'd have a better way to differentiate her."
Mr. Briggs nodded. "I figured you two would be close by now."
Sin knew he was fishing, and shook his head. "She's a fucking bot, Dan. An anti-social, spoiled princess. About the only things I know about her is she likes to solve her 'problems' quickly, she doesn't like to be called a bitch, and she answers to Princess now." He grinned. "There's something pleasing about that."
"Princess?" Mr. Briggs asked.
Sin shrugged. "Well, she is a spoiled little princess, isn't she? I don't like her, but I'm not God. He loves all His children, and it's my duty to protect them."
"And your feelings don't matter?" Mr. Briggs asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not at all. If they did, I'd ask for a drink of that whiskey on the shelf behind you." Sin stood. "If you try to send her out in a blue robe again, I'll redress her. Make this easy and change their uniform?"
"We can't," he finally admitted.
That made Sin's head twitch. "What? Whynot?"
"Those robes cover them completely for a reason, Legate. Many of those women are so scarred from their surgeries they would terrify children in the street, and that's not good for business. The ones who healed easily from their early implants? Over eighty percent are clones. Showing their faces means they'd be recognized as such. Corporations would start asking for specific Ingénue by serial number. What you're asking me to do would bankrupt this company."
"So instead," he shot back, "you're willing to lose billions in investments?"
Mr. Briggs smiled. "It's a fraction of what OutLink makes in a day, so yes. I've already brought this up to the board of directors, and it's been decided. The Ingénue wear the robes. It's good for branding, and the best decision for our business."
"And sixteen young women have died." Sin just shook his head. "Their blood is on your hands, Danny boy. Along with those six people who died today. You'd better hope your company doesn't make you a scapegoat, because that many counts of negligent homicide? It's a death sentence."
The man simply smiled like he knew something Sin didn't. "I'm confident it will all work out. Besides, that's why we're paying so much for your help, Brother Sinclair."
"Yeah, just know that every time I have to kill someone else, I will be making a stop up here." He stepped back, intending to leave.
Daniel Briggs casually gestured at the bottle. "Did you want a glass before you go, Legate?"
"Fifth precept," Sin told him. "I must abstain. I also can't be bought, Mr. Briggs."
Chapter Twenty-Five
