‘No.’ She said it firmly, moving behind him. Manipulating a keyboard with one hand, Roarke drew one of hers over his shoulder, to his lips, to nibble on her knuckles. ‘Showoff. ’
‘It would hardly be any fun if you just plugged me in with your code. In your unit,’ he murmured, and switched to auto. ‘File Code Two, Yellow, Johannsen.’ Across the room one of the wall screens flashed.
Waiting
‘Evidence number 34-J, view and copy,’ Eve requested. When the formula scrolled on, Eve shook her head. ‘See that? It might as well be ancient hieroglyphics.’
‘Chemical formula,’ Roarke mused.
‘How do you know?’
‘I manufacture a few - legal ones. This is some sort of analgesic, but not entirely. Hallucinogenic properties . . .’ He clucked his tongue, shook his head. ‘I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Not a standard. Computer, analyze and identify.’
‘You say it’s a drug,’ Eve began and the computer went to work.
‘Most certainly.’
‘That fits with my theory. But what was Boomer doing with the formula, and why would someone kill him for it?’
‘That would depend on how marketable it is, I’d think. How profitable.’ He frowned up at the screen as the analysis began to form. The molecular reproduction circled on the screen in colorful dots and spirals. ‘Okay, you have an organic stimulant, a standard chemical hallucinogenic, both in fairly low and nearly legal amounts. Ah, there’s the properties for THR-50.’
‘Street name Zeus. Nasty stuff.’
‘Hmm. Still, it’s low wattage. But that’s an interesting mix. There’s mint, to make it more palatable. I’d say it could also be manufactured, with some alterations, in liquid form. Blend it with Brinock - that’s a sexual stimulant and enhancer. In the right measures, it can be used to cure impotency.’
‘I know what it is. We had a guy who OD’d on it. Killed himself after what appeared to be the world’s record in masturbation. Jumped out of a window in sexual frustration. His dick was swollen like a pork sausage, about the same color, and still hard as iron.’
‘Thank you for sharing that. What’s this?’ Puzzled, Roarke went back to the keyboard. The computer merely continued to flash the same message.
Substance unknown. Probable cell regenerator. Unable to identify.
‘How is that possible?’ he mused. ‘I have an automatic update on this. There’s nothing out there it can’t identify.’
‘An unknown substance. Well, well. That might be worth killing for. What will it give us without it?’
‘Identify with known data,’ Roarke ordered.
FORMULA EQUALS STIMULANT WITH HALLUCINOGENIC PROPERTIES. ORGANIC BASE. WILL ENTER BLOODSTREAM QUICKLY TO AFFECT NERVOUS SYSTEM.
‘Results?’
INCOMPLETE DATA.
‘Hell. Probable results with known data.’
WILL CAUSE FEELINGS OF EUPHORIA, PARANOIA, SEXUAL APPETITE, DELUSIONS OF PHYSICAL AND MENTAL POWERS. DOSAGE OF 55 MG INTO AVERAGE HUMAN OF 130 POUNDS WILL LAST FOUR TO SIX HOURS. DOSAGE OF MORE THAN 100 MG WILL CAUSE DEATH IN 87.3 PERCENT OF USERS. SUBSTANCE SIMILAR TO THR-50, AKA ZEUS, WITH ADDITION OF STIMULANT TO ENHANCE SEXUAL ABILITY AND CELL REGENERATION.
‘It’s not that different,’ Eve murmured. ‘It’s not that important. We’ve already got chemi-heads mixing Zeus with Erotica. It’s a nasty combination, accounts for most of the rapes in the city, but it’s not secret or particularly profitable. Not when any average junkie can mix it up in a porta-lab.’
‘Except for the unknown. Cell regeneration.’ His brow quirked. ‘The fabled Fountain of Youth.’
‘Anybody with enough credits can get youth treatments.’
‘But they’re temporary,’ Roarke pointed out. ‘You have to go back at regular intervals. Bio peels and antiaging injections are expensive, time-consuming, and often uncomfortable. And standard treatments don’t have all the extra punches of this.’
‘Whatever the unknown is, it makes the whole works bigger, or deadlier. Or, as you said, more marketable.’
‘You’ve got the powder,’ Roarke pointed out.