Which is the least of our worries. Wetherton’s and Kazdan’s clones can have only one source, and we both know it. Neither the government labs nor the black marketeers have succeeded with personality and memory transfers. Hopeworth has.”
“Or so our spy tells us. It’s not something we’ve been able to confirm.”
The Federation had attempted to place spies in Hopeworth on several occasions, but it was only in the last few months that one of their operatives had leaked this information—though so far it was only his word backing it up.
“I think Hopeworth basically confirmed their involvement when they maneuvered to get Wetherton’s clone in charge of their budget.”
“If they wanted their clone in charge of their budget, they should have got him assigned to Defense.”
Gabriel crossed his arms. Hopeworth had fingers in both pies, and Stephan knew it. “Did you even mention Hopeworth to Sam?”
“It was mentioned. But we don’t know for sure if Hopeworth is involved.”
“Then did you at least tell her Sethanon is more than likely involved with Hopeworth?”
“No, because we have nothing more than a suspicion to back this up. We have no photographs of him. We don’t even know if he truly exists. He is currently nothing more than a name.”
“A name that has over thirty SIU and Federation deaths attributed to it. And I don’t particularly want Sam’s name added to that list.” His voice was tight with the anger coursing through him. True, he’d wanted to lose her as a partner, but he certainly hadn’t wanted to throw her to the lions, and that’s basically what his brother had done. She would have been safer remaining his partner than taking this mission.
Stephan grimaced. “Nor do I, brother. Believe me. But we need to uncover the source of these clones. We need to draw Sethanon out, and we need to uncover whether or not he is involved as deeply with Hopeworth as we suspect. And the truth is, she’s the best bait we have to achieve those aims.”
“What about our source in Hopeworth? Has he heard any whispers about Sethanon?”
Stephan shook his head. “It’s not a code name the military uses.”
“Kazdan knew who he was, so others must. It’s just a matter of uncovering the various layers of his organization.”
“Which is why Samantha has been assigned to Wetherton. We know he’s a clone. We know his name was on that list she got from Kazdan. We need to know what that list was, and what Wetherton had promised to do in return for life eternal. And why the original was deemed expendable enough to kill and clone and not directly exploit.”
“But that still puts her too close to Hopeworth. That could be extremely dangerous.”
Stephan leaned back in his chair and regarded his brother steadily. “Only if, as you presume, she is a product of Hopeworth itself.”
“You’ve seen the initial reports from O’Hearn. You’ve seen the coding. Whatever Sam is, she’s definitely not a product of natural selection.”
“Yet it was Sethanon who assigned Kazdan to monitor her every move. Sethanon who appears to know just who and what Samantha is. You noted that yourself. Couldn’t that mean he’s responsible for her creation?”
Possible, but not likely. Gabriel didn’t doubt that Sethanon wanted to use her, but if the man had been responsible for her creation, why would he take the risk of releasing her?
“Sam had a military microchip in her side,” Gabriel pointed out. “The same sort of chip that we found in both the Generation 18 rejects and in Allars.” She was also afraid of Hopeworth. Though she had never said anything, he could feel her fear as clearly as if it were his own.
“And yet our source in Hopeworth can find no record of her, though he can find records on every other reject.”
“Maybe because her project was destroyed by a fire years ago.”
“A fire would never destroy every scrap of information. Nor could it erase every memory.”
“And yet everyone says that Penumbra was destroyed that completely.”
“People still remember the project, Gabriel. They just don’t remember her.”
Mary Elliot, the nurse who’d worked on the project, apparently did, but she was just one of many, and a woman with a faulty memory at that. Partially thanks to Alzheimer’s, and partially thanks to the military’s habit of “readjusting” memories. Gabriel shifted restlessly in the seat. “What if she isn’t a reject? What if she’s something else entirely?”
Stephan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
He didn’t really know. It was just a feeling. The extent of Sam’s memory loss, the depth to which the truth appeared to be buried and the fact that someone was willing to bomb the SIU in order to destroy her test results—it all spoke of intent. It suggested that someone, somewhere, was protecting her from her past, whatever that might be.
He actually doubted that it was Hopeworth trying to conceal who she was, even if they were her creators. The military wasn’t that subtle. Besides, if Sam was one of their creations, they would never have let her go—especially not with the potential she was now showing.