Syndrome

On the other hand, this is the first time there've been actual human trials. If anybody tells you there's no risk, then they're not behaving ethically.'

'Well, the way things stand now, I'm due out there at the institute at tena.m. tomorrow. If I want to, I can be formally entered into the clinical trials on the spot. I've passed my qualifying exam.'

'You know the trials are almost over. It's like they're taking you at the last minute.'

'That's what he said. I'm going to be the last … whatever. My friend Jennifer just called me a guinea pig. Van de Vliet also said I'd have to stay out there for at least a couple of weeks, probably longer. That's going to be a bloody drag, since things are really busy down at CitiSpace now.'

'Ally, given what I know, or don't know, I don't have an entirely good feeling about this. It could be they're hiding something, but I don't have a clue what it is. It's quite possibly connected to that patient who got terminated. And when I tried to raise this with Gerex's attorneys, no less person than Winston Bartlett himself went ballistic.'

'What are you saying? That I shouldn't do it?'

'Hey, I can't make that decision for you. But one possibility would be to just play along for a day or two and see if you can't find out a little more about what went wrong with the patient who was dropped.'

'Stone, that's maybe a little paranoid. Couldn't a single patient have been dropped for a whole bunch of different reasons?'

'Of course, but it's not that simple. A patient was dropped from the Gerex clinical trials, and there was no official reason given in the data file. It made me curious enough that I had our paper's attorney pass along a question about it to their attorneys. That motivated Winston Bartlett to come personally to threaten me. So why is a guy who runs a huge conglomerate suddenly afraid of one tiny question? Is there some problem, some reaction to the procedure that they're terrified will come to light? Ultimately millions and millions of dollars are at stake. I want the book I'm writing to tell the whole story, not just the part they'll want to have told. That's why God put reporters on earth.'

'Shit, Stone, I'm glad you're here. I think I told you on the phone, I had someone I loved very much disappear on me some years ago, and I'm feeling very alone at the moment.' She looked him over. 'Okay, I'll ask. We're adults. Are you married, divorced, attached, unattached, seeing someone, alone and suicidal, what? I mean, where do things stand here?'

'Where things stand is that I'm very happy that I stumbled into you after all the years. And yeah, I've got a little history. At least I'd like to think so. But nothing is going on at the moment.' Then he told her about Joyce, the divorce, Amy. 'And what was that you said about having somebody disappear on you?' He studied her, reaching back for the feelings that were still buried. Seeing her was bringing it back. 'What did you mean by that? Disappear like a missing person, or disappear as in up and split, or-'

'He was my husband, Steve, and he was a political consultant. He was in a single-engine Cessna that went down in the rain forest in Belize and I miss him terribly.'

'I'm so sorry, Ally. Nothing that's happened to me comes close to that tragedy.'

'It gets worse. A few months before that, my dad had an accident with a Browning shotgun that was no accident.'

'Jesus. What's that line about how the troubles tread on one another's heels. Was he depressed? I guess that's a stupid question.'

'He thought he was going to lose his business. After a lifetime of work. What do you think?'

'Ally, I'm really sorry about all that.'

'Well, I suppose it could be worse. As I recall, you never knewyourdad, did you?'

When am I going to tell her the truth?he asked himself.

'Let's get off the history topic tonight, what do you say. We'll both get ourselves depressed.'

'Agreed.' She sipped at her scotch. 'So … you're saying I should play along and see if I can find out something about this discharged patient, the mere mention of whom causes grown millionaires to become unhinged?'

'It's whatIwould do,' he said, finishing off his scotch and settling the glass on a coaster on a side table. Then he got up. 'I have to tell you, Ally, you look awfully tired. I'd love to be responsible for keeping you up all night, but I doubt that would be a humane act.'

'It might remind me of a time long ago and not so far away,' she said with a faint smile. 'But you're right. When I get this tired, I can precipitate an episode.'

'I'd offer to drive you out there tomorrow, but that would just get you in trouble. They probably have orders to shoot me on sight. I'm the number one persona non grata with the top management of the Gerex Corporation at the moment. So I'm the last person you want to be seen with. Right now the only way you're going to find out what they're hiding is if nobody suspects anything. Which means you've got to show up alone.'

Maybe that's true, she thought. But you're a person I'd like to be with tonight.

'Thanks for coming over.' She walked over and pecked him on the cheek.

You're vulnerable tonight, she told herself, wanting to ask him to stay. Don't start making any big life decisions.

Chapter 16

Tuesday, April 7

10:32p.m.

Winston Bartlett looked at the white phone on the oak end table beside his chair and argued with himself about picking it up and calling the Dutchman. When Van de Vliet was at his office at the institute, they communicated by encrypted videophone. By this time, though, he was usually home, but he still hadn't called to say what had happened with Alexa Hampton. Now they would have to talk over an open line. Damn him.

After his explosive run-in with Stone Aimes-damn him too-Bartlett had gone up to the Park Avenue place to check on Kristen first hand and try to console her. But he wasn't actually sure she recognized him; at times she seemed to and then at other times she would just stare at him blankly. Her mind increasingly had an in-and-out relationship with reality, and today was an out day.

The time had come to be deeply concerned about her. She couldn't be kept under wraps forever. He had checked her into the Dorian Institute under an assumed name, Kirby Parker, to try to avoid any publicity. Now that was the only name she could remember. How had the Syndrome done that to her?

Kristen Starr, whose identity was known to several million watchers of cable TV, could no longer remember her own name. Karl had worked with her every day, but no medication he had tried had even minimally slowed the Syndrome's progress.

The Beta had seemed so promising. Kristen's body had been rejuvenated-her face was looking like she'd had perfect plastic surgery, and there'd been no discernible side effects. It was everything they’d all hoped for. Kristen was elated and even the normally cautious Van de Vliet was buoyed.

Yes, the Beta was so close. Karlhadto find a way to make it work.

In spite of all Winston Bartlett's entrepreneurial derring-do, he always knew he was at the mercy of time. He was getting ever closer to that final dance with destiny. But. . but what if the Beta could be made to work the way Van de Vliet theorized it might? Was there the possibility the music would never stop?

Nursing a second Glenfiddich, he looked around the room, the third-floor study/bedroom, finding it pleased him as always. This room of his five-story mansion was a handmade gem from New York's turn-of-the-century Gilded Age, with molded plasterwork ceilings and brass doorknobs and mahogany paneling. Favorites from his superlative Japanese sword collection lined the walls, giving him constant joy. He wanted to live to enjoy it for another three score and ten.

The only galling thing about the place was that he had to share it with Eileen, who had the top two floors. They had been living in marital purgatory for the past twenty-eight years, ever since she found out about the existence of his natural son. Because of that humiliation, she had refused to give him the one thing he most wanted from her, his freedom. She let it be known that as long as he flaunted a string of mistresses in the cheap tabloid