a trip.
Back at Chimera, Victor went directly to the accounting department. He found Horace Murray at his desk, bent over computer print-outs. When the man saw Victor he sprang to his feet saying, “Colette and I wanted to thank you again for coming to the hospital.”
“I only wish I could have done something to help,” Victor said.
“It was in God’s hands,” Horace said resignedly.
When Victor asked him about the cephaloclor, the man swore that Mark had not been given an antibiotic, especially not cephaloclor.
Leaving the accounting department, Victor was struck by still another fear. What if there was a link between the deaths and the fact that the children’s files were missing?
That was the most disturbing thought of all because it implied that the genes had been turned on deliberately.
Heart pounding again, Victor ran back to his lab. One of his newer technicians tried to ask a question, but Victor waved the man away, telling him to talk to Grimes if he had a problem.
Inside his office Victor bent down in front of a cabinet at the bottom of his bookcase. He unlocked the heavy door and reached in to grasp the NGF data books that he’d written in code. But his hand met empty space. The entire shelf was empty.
Victor closed the cabinet and carefully locked it even though there was no longer anything to protect.
“Calm down,” he told himself, trying to stem a rising tide of paranoia. “You’re letting your imagination run away with itself. There has to be an explanation.”
Getting up, he went out to find Robert. He tracked him down in the electrophoresis unit, working on the task that Victor had earlier assigned him. “Have you seen my NGF data books?” Victor asked.
“I don’t know where they are,” Robert said. “I haven’t seen them for six months. I thought you’d moved them.”
Mumbling his thanks, Victor walked away. This was no longer some fantasy. The evidence was mounting. Someone had interfered in his experiment, with lethal results. Deciding to face his worst apprehensions, Victor went over to the liquid nitrogen freezer. He put his hand on the latch and hesitated. Intuition told him what he would find, but he had to force himself to raise the hood. He kept hearing Marsha telling him that he had to destroy the other five zygotes right away.
Slowly he looked down. At first his view was blocked by the frozen mist as it floated out of the storage container and spilled silently to the floor. Then it cleared, and he saw the plate that contained the embryos. It was empty.
For a moment Victor supported himself by leaning against the freezer, staring at the empty tray, not wanting to believe what his eyes were clearly telling him. The he let the lid fall shut. The cool nitrogen mist swirled about his legs as if it were alive. He staggered back to his office and fell into the chair. Someone else knew about his NGF work!
But who could it be and why had they intentionally brought about the babies’ deaths, or had that been an accident? Was someone so intent on destroying Victor that they didn’t care who else was hurt? Suddenly Hurst’s threats took on a new dimension.
With a wave of apprehension, Victor realized that he had to find out who was behind all these strange events. He rose from the chair and began to pace, remembering with a start that David had died soon after the battle for taking Chimera public. Could his death have been involved as well? Could Ronald be involved? No, that was ridiculous. David had died of liver cancer, not poisoning or an accident that someone could have caused. Even the idea that the Hobbs and Murray children had been intentionally killed was preposterous.
Their deaths had to be an intracellular phenomenon. Maybe there had been a second mutation caused by the freezing which he would see when Robert completed the DNA sequencing.
Telling himself to calm down and think logically, he headed over to the computer center to see Louis Kaspwicz. The piece of hardware Louis had been working on had been reduced to an empty metal shell. Surrounding it were hundreds of parts and pieces.
“I hate to bother you again,” Victor said, “but I need to know the time of day when my files were deleted,” Victor said. “I’m trying to figure out how I did it.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Louis said, “lots of people accidentally delete their files. I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself. As for the time, I think it was around nine or ten o’clock.”
“Could I look at the log itself?” Victor asked. He thought that if he’d accessed the computer before or after the deletion, it might give him a clue about why he did it.
“Dr. Frank,” Louis said with one of his distracting twitches, “this is your company. You can look at whatever you want.”
They went back to Louis’s office and he gave the November 18 log to Victor. Victor scanned through the print-out. He couldn’t find any entry between eight-thirty and ten-thirty.
“I don’t see it,” Victor admitted.
Louis came around the desk to look over Victor’s shoulder.
“That’s off,” he said, checking the date on the top of the page. “November 18, all right!” He looked back at the entries. “Oh, for God’s sake!” he exclaimed. “No wonder you couldn’t find it. You were looking in the A.M. section.”
Louis handed the print-out back, pointing to the entry in question.
'P.M. ?“ Victor asked, looking at the correct place on the sheet. “That couldn’t be. At 9:45 P.M. I was in Symphony Hall in Boston.”
“What can I say?” Louis said with a twitch.
“Are you certain that this is correct?” Victor asked.
“Absolutely.” Louis pointed to the entries before and after. “See how it’s sequenced? It has to be the right time.
Are you sure you were at the symphony?”
“Yes,” Victor said.
“You didn’t use the phone?”
“What are you talking about?” Victor asked.
“Just that this entry was made off-site. See this access number? That’s for your PC at home.”
“But I wasn’t at home,” Victor complained.
Louis’s shoulders jerked spasmodically. “In that case, there’s only one explanation,” he said. “The entry had to have been made by someone who knows your password as well as the unpublished phone number of our computer. Have you ever given your password to anyone?”
“Never,” Victor said without hesitation.
“How often do you access the computer from home?” Louis inquired.
“Almost never,” Victor said. “I used to do it frequently, but that was years ago when the company was just starting.”
“Good lord!” Louis said, staring at the print-out.
“What now?” asked Victor.
“I hate to tell you this, but there have been a lot of entries into the computer on a regular basis with your password. And that can only mean that some hacker has found our telephone number.”
“Isn’t that difficult?” Victor asked.
Louis shook his head. “The phone number is the easy part.
Just like the kid did in War Games. You can program your computer to make endless calls using permutations. As soon as you stumble on a computer tone, that’s when the fun begins.”
“And this hacker used the computer frequently?”
“Sure did,” Louis said. “I’ve noticed the entries, but I always thought it was you. Look!”
Louis flipped open the log and pointed to a series of entries using Victor’s password. “It’s usually Friday nights.” He flipped the pages and showed other entries. “Must be when the kid is out of school. What a pain in the ass!
