My voice must hold a reassuring note of truth, because the look of misery and humiliation slides from her face and is replaced with one of pure relieved glee.
“Really?”
“Really,” I say firmly. “I didn’t think about the effect my disappearance would have on you because I didn’t think there was going to be a disappearance. And I wasn’t expecting you towait for me because I assumed that as my captive, you’d run the first chance you got.”
“I’m your captive, huh?” She grins a little too happily for someone wearing that moniker unwillingly.
“You tried to leave town and I hunted you down and brought you back. I have no intention of letting you go, Lydia. Not ever. And, what you do not know, because I have not yet told you, is that it was your scent that brought me back. I found a trace of it on the wind, and I followed it. If not for your steady presence and loyalty, I might have been lost forever.”
Her eyes are shining. The tears have stopped falling, but they have left a dew for her happiness to beam through.
“So I was helpful?”
“Baby, you were indispensable. I literally would not be standing here right now if it were not for you,” I tell her. I love the way her smile brightens, then turns shy. She is such an adorable little thing, and I am so pleased to have her in my life.
“I love you,” I tell her. “You are more than the potential mother of my bastard child.”
Her lower lip quivers with emotion, but then she laughs at my use of her outdated, awful term.
“I think I love you too,” she says. “But you can’t keep turning into wild animals and experimenting on yourself, and…”
I let her babble her little rules. I will not be following them. Her anxieties are understandable, but misplaced. Science requires experimentation, and every time I experiment, I learn a great deal more.
“You’re not listening to me,” she pouts.
“I am not. Because we should go. But we can talk later, or I can sit down, and you can tell me what you think of me until I find another use for your mouth.” I wink at her.
The reference disarms her and makes her blush.
“It’s time we go to work.”
* * *
We organize the cars and whatnot, and then I drive to the lab. I am quite eager not to be dead there, of all the places I am determined not to be dead, that is one of the most important.
The place is quiet, and that’s because a memorial is being held in my honor in the conference hall. It’s the place we hold symposiums and such. It is already well underway when we arrive.
I gesture for Lydia to stay behind me as I crack the door. Everybody is there. From the members of the board, who are all sitting up at a long table on the dais, all the way down to the service techs who are lining the walls, standing because the seats have been taken by research and admin staff.
“Simon was dedicated to Z-Corp in a fashion few are,” Veronica is saying. “His experiments and his work will live on in myriad ways. What’s been very exciting is the wave of investments we’ve seen in the wake of his disappearance and subsequent assumed death. I’d like to give everyone credit here, especially the sales team who put together memorial fundraising packages to the tune of several million dollars. It might be a drop in the bucketof our overall funding, but it has allowed us to leverage several senators, so…”
She does not seem sad at all, I notice. If anything, she seems almost gleeful. She’s trying desperately to look devastated, but little smiles keep peeking through her visage, and her eyes are as dry as anyone’s could be.
I don’t expect a huge outpouring of grief, but the woman has known me for over a decade. You’d think she’d have a hitch of breath or something while she discusses how profitable my passing has been.
I note that there’s a photo of me at the head of the table. I look very handsome. I also look a little like an android because it’s been edited to remove most of my human features, like pores.
“The Chimera project will be sectioned out and assigned to various departments,” she says. “Simon’s work was fundamental and instrumental, but it’s time we started iterating on it. We’re far enough along that his formulas can be used for a lot more than chickens and mice. But I’ll speak about that more with those who need to know.”
I knew it all along. She’s angling to take my research and farm it out to the highest bidder for the lowest common denominator applications. It’s so predictable and corporate of her. Why refine the process into something truly unique when you can sell it as a toy to kids who want to turn their hamsters into puppies.
“If only he hadn’t been so terrible at keeping legible notes,” I say out loud, stepping into the room.
There’s a collective gasp that I find very edifying.
Veronica looks at me as if she’s seen a ghost, which I suppose is fair because she both no doubt has a guilty conscience and may actually think she is seeing me dead.
“Not dead,” I say, by way of clarification.
