She's been all over. Probably been exposed to it a hundred times.'
Conover sat down next to him. 'We'll know soon enough.'
Jonny stretched his legs out on the tatami mat, running his fingers over the scars on his face. He thought of the micrograph of the virus he had seen at the Croakers' black clinic: the pseudo-phage's distorted head, its thin, insect legs holding it in place while it pumped out its genetic material. Then the cloning of the plague. The cell exploding. Poison in the bloodstream.
'Mister Conover,' Jonny began quietly, 'if I asked you a couple of personal questions, would you be straight with me?'
'If I can.' The smuggler lord's voice was deep, guarded, rumbling from the depths of his belly.
'I can't help thinking that you more about this leprosy analog than you've been letting on. Let me ask you, that stuff Easy Money took off you, was that connected with the virus? Maybe a specimen?'
At first, Jonny did not think the lord would answer, but as he was putting together another question he heard, 'Yes.'
'I've moved a few disease cultures and infected organs myself,' said Jonny, 'to gangs into research. But this virus is something else. It's like something a government lab or a multinational would come up with.'
'I just move merchandise,' said Conover. 'I have no idea who the original owner is. The deal was conducted through a third party.'
'Any chance that original owner is Arab?' asked Jonny.
'I have no idea,' Conover replied.
'Do you know if Easy Money has any Arab connections?'
'Not to my knowledge.'
'But it is possible.'
'Easy Money would work for Colonel Zamora, the Arabs or Mother Goose if she had cash,' said Conover.
'Right. And if Easy was moonlighting for the Arabs, what better place to work than with you, using your connections and your protection?' Jonny said. 'If he knew about that virus shipment and was waiting for it, he could have been tipped by a go-between that you had it, snatched it and taken off.'
Conover dragged something across the table. The sound of liquid being poured. Jonny felt a small cup was pressed into his hand.
He sniffed the liquid. Sake. He gulped the whole thing down. 'Easy says he has a second vial from the shipment and he's willing to sell it. Is it unreasonable to assume that if there are two vials involved, one might be the virus and the other, something to kill it?'
'No. That's not unreasonable at all,' said Conover. 'Do you know where Easy is?'
'Maybe,' said Jonny. 'What I can't figure, though, is that if Easy is working for the Arabs, why he's willing to sell us the second vial?'
'Easy is greedy,' said Conover. 'Why should he turn a single profit when he can double his money by splitting the vials and selling them individually?'
'Yeah. That's just the way he'd do it.'
'So what are we going to do about this?' asked the smuggler lord. 'It's obvious you know where Easy is hiding, but you won't tell me.'
'I didn't say I wouldn't tell you. I just want to make a deal first.'
Conover laughed. 'Why didn't I see this coming?' he said. Jonny heard him pour out more sake. A cup was pushed into his hand.
'Your terms?' Conover asked.
'If Sumi has the new leprosy,' Jonny said, 'when I get this stuff from Easy, she's the first one to get a shot.'
'I have no problem with that.'
'There's more,' said Jonny.
'My,' said Conover appreciatively, 'you're growing up, son. You're finally beginning to think like a business man.'
'The second part is that I'm in on the pick-up. I want to be right there when the deal goes down. I want to hold the vial in my hand and know it's safe.'
'You of all people should know how stupid an idea that is,' Conover said. 'The last time you left here you were healthy. Now you have a face that's half plastic and no eyes at all.'
'It's a yes or no proposition,' said Jonny. 'No go, no show.'
Jonny could sense the smuggler lord thinking. He sipped his sake and waited, confident that he knew what the lord's answer would be. He felt an odd, distant amusement at having bested Conover in a business deal. Below them, behind re-inforced concrete doors, layers of steel and EMP shielding was Conover's underground clinic. Jonny knew that the techs were down there studying Sumi's blood, running tubes into her arms, down her throat, taking tissue samples and watching her on video monitors from distant rooms, manipulating diagnostic devices with nursing-drones, checking her for signs of infection, but keeping well away from her. There was a ball of acid burning in the pit of his stomach.
'I'll accept your deal,' Conover said, finally. 'But before we can proceed, I have a deal of my own that you must accept. '
'What is it?' Jonny asked.
'It's simple, really, and not terribly unpleasant. I just want your word that you and Sumi, when she is well, will remain here as my guests, with complete run of the house and grounds, for as long as I deem necessary.'
'That's it?' asked Jonny.
'That's it,' Conover replied.
There were footsteps coming down the corridor. Jonny picked at a loose piece of tatami as Conover went to the sliding door. Low voices. 'Thank you,' Conover said, and sat down again next to Jonny.
'It's the test results.'
'I don't want to hear it. If it was good news you'd have said so from the door,' Jonny said. 'Shit. People like me, we spend our whole lives tripping over our feet. But Sumi, she doesn't deserve this.' He tried to conjure her face, but he could not find it. The inside of his head felt hollow, as if someone had scooped his brains out and chromed the inside of his skull. 'You've got a deal, ' Jonny said.
'Excellent,' said Conover. He poured them each another cup of sake. 'A drink to seal the deal, and off to bed for you. You're going to need strength tomorrow.'
'Yeah, dealing with Easy's a real drain.'
'You won't be cutting any deals tomorrow, I'm afraid. Tomorrow, you're going under the knife.'
'What do you mean?'
I mean,' said the smuggler lord, draining his cup and smacking his lips in satisfaction, 'that at this time tomorrow, you'll be in surgery. If you're going back down into that madhouse, it seems to me the best way to make sure you find your way back up here is to fix you up with a new pair of eyes.'
TEN
He could not sleep. He spent the night listening to the World Link viewer in his room, restlessly changing the channel every few seconds, program to program (Damned Alpha Rat documentaries, he thought.), language to language, and pacing. The old house creaked, settling deeper into the earth on its century-old foundation. Jonny tried not to think of Sumi and Ice, tried to keep his mind numb. He felt his way into the hall once, found Blue Boy and ran his fingers over the uneven layers of paint. He knew that he was probably on somebody's security camera, but he did not care. Jonny wondered what would happen if he put his fist through the damned painting.
Later, in his room, when the little enameled clock on his desk chimed seven times, they came for him.
They injected him with something and, against his will, he felt himself relaxing. He was pushed through the halls on a padded chair that hovered a few centimeters off the parquet floor on an induction cushion, wondering if it
