Soul

Before the scaffold, Mrs Huntington was seen tremulously to thank the sheriff and the worthy governor of the prison for their kind attention to her during her confinement. Then, perilously, her knees shaking, she ascended the scaffold and was placed in the necessary position. While the executioner was adjusting the fatal apparatus of death, the accused appeared deeply absorbed in prayer. The executioner, having drawn the cap over the accused’s face, retired from the scaffold. On the signal being given, the bolt was withdrawn and the unhappy woman was launched into eternity. A few convulsive struggles were perceptible, and she ceased to exist. After a time, the body was cut down and conveyed into the prison.

Aloysius, staring at the broadsheet, recognised only the name ‘Lavinia’.

‘You know I can’t read a word, Samuel.’

Samuel put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘I thought you should have it anyway. It was quickly done, and afterwards a great quantity of birds rose up into the sky. Aloysius, I believe it were her soul breaking free at last.’

Aloysius turned away, his shoulders shaking as he silently fought his emotions.

‘I’ll pray for her, and for the child left behind,’ Samuel said.

In lieu of an answer, the Irishman reached out and grasped the great calloused hand of his young friend.

81

California, 2003

TOM DONOHUE HAD PICKED HER up outside the Defense Department building. She’d asked him to drive her out to the Joshua Tree reserve, and now, with the desert laid out before them, the cacti standing like silent sentries, the occasional cricket rasp breaking the air, Julia opened a bottle of champagne and filled two plastic cups.

She leaned over to kiss him. It had been four weeks since their first date, and two months since the encounter with Klaus. She had rung him the day after, determined to return his gun, and they had been seeing each other ever since.

‘So what exactly are we celebrating?’ Tom ventured. He put his head back and breathed in the atmosphere; it was fragrant with the scent of heat from the fading day.

Before completing her report, Julia had deliberately destroyed all evidence of the heightened activity that indicated ANG–1. Although she knew it was only a question of time before other geneticists made the same discovery, she had reached her personal decision. In any case, would they ever really be able to separate nature from nurture and then calculate in that other crucial factor, free will? Surely it was possible that whatever one’s genetic inheritance, one could still evolve consciously beyond the genetic propensities of one’s ancestors? The willingness to take moral responsibility was an immeasurable factor.

Either way, Julia was convinced Tom had been right: there were at least two propensities linked to the same mutant gene function—a capacity to kill, and a capacity to carry out that killing without emotional consequences.

‘It’s signed, sealed and delivered,’ she said.

‘And?’

She looked at him, marvelling at the ease with which she’d found herself trusting the former Delta Force soldier.

‘Come on,’ he persisted, ‘I need to know the official verdict.’

‘Officially, my findings were inconclusive.’

‘The unofficial version?’

‘I prised open Pandora’s box then decided to slam the lid shut again. Although you do realise that some other geneticist is going to discover it all over again in a nanosecond?’

‘Thank you.’ He looked at his watch. ‘A nanosecond—I think that gives us enough time.’ He kissed her, then pulled her down onto the blanket.

The four Defense Department officials waited until they knew Professor Huntington had left the building, then General Burt Jennings nodded to Amanda Jane, who picked up a telephone. A moment later, Matt Leman, the representative from Xandox, was ushered in.

Colonel Smith-Royston pulled out a chair for the newcomer.

‘Now, Mr Leman, I believe Xandox has some information to share—or perhaps sell?’

82

Cork, 1875

THE PHOTOGRAPHER STEADIED THE legs of his tripod. The wind whipped up the camera cloth and sent Aidan’s cap flying. Behind them, the ship’s horns blared.

‘Now I know it’s mighty breezy, and any minute we will have cloud, but Master Huntington, if you could just look a little cheerful about taking this momentous trip to the land of the brave and the free.’

Pulling himself up to his full height, Aidan stared at the seagulls that soared above the dock in a cackling spiral. He wondered if he’d ever see the Irish sky again.