"The Transgenic Falcon"
Chapter Twenty-Two

I was in a real mood as we stalked through the corridors of G-T back to Ferguson’s domain. I didn’t like that Taylor had all but told me I was completely wrong about what was going on. I didn’t like the way he seemed to be ready to take the blame for a crime he didn’t commit. I didn’t like that Round was going to be able to claim that he’d solved this case where I failed.

All of which is a lame attempt at explaining why I nearly bit Belinda’s head off.

“Eamon, we’ve a few minutes, why don’t we do a status review?” she asked.

It was the last damned straw and I lost it, plain and simple.

“You know, this project management shit is getting really tiresome!” I said stopping and whirling to face her. “I told you it takes time for things to fit together, and there is no way to rush it. So, why don’t you just back off?” My voice rose and, yes, more than one person in the hall were looking at us, but at this point I didn’t care.

That would have wilted the Belinda I knew back in school. But this version of Belinda was made of tougher stuff.

“I am sorry you replace it tiresome, but I have a responsibility on this project. Part of it is keeping you on track and knowing where we stand. So, even if it doesn’t help you, let’s review what we know.”

“What do we know? I’ll tell you what we know; nothing. We don’t know how Cho was killed. We don’t know why he was killed. We do know there is one hell of a lot of people who have a decent reason for wanting him dead. Whichever one it was, they were willing to kill innocent Eolin-I to do it. We know all of that, and we know that the only decent suspect is probably not the killer. So, in a word, what do we know? Shit. We know jack-shit. So, how’s that status report looking now?”

Yeah, it was not my finest hour, not even in the top one thousand.

I glared at Belinda, ready for the return volley that had been our norm for so long. It didn’t come.

Instead she stood there in the hallway, calmly staring at me, giving me nothing to hang my anger on. It was really annoying, her failure to engage. But it was also like a shot of water to the face, this silent rebuke. She kept looking at me mildly, but with all the flexibility of steel girder.

What shocked me out of my rage was the fact I recognized what she was doing. It was a trick I used all the time to get folks to tell me more than they intended, this quiet stare. She was trying to replace out what really set me off. Even though we both knew what it was.

Right there I resolved that I was not going to be the one who broached the subject of her and Cho. She’d just tried to pull a Jedi mind trick on me to avoid doing it herself. Now I’d be dead and dammed before I let her off the hook on this issue.

So much for the uber-rational man, eh?

“So, a lot of negatives.” Belinda said, finally breaking our silent staring, “Are you ready to say you can’t solve this case?”

There was the real question, wasn’t it? Given more time, I had no doubt I could solve it. But then given all the time in the world, so could any homicide department in the country. Probably.

I could walk away, right now, and leave this mess to Round and Belinda. I’d only have the retainer, no pay-off if I quit without solving it, but I also wouldn’t have to deal with all the crap that came from being in the belly of the Gen-Tech acrology.

I was tempted, I’ll admit it. No more dealing with the oppressive social structure, no more threats from Round. There’d certainly be no more dealing with the pain and jealousy of having my great love as a former lover of the dead man. And a suspect to boot.

But if I left I’d be breaking a promise to Jomain, and the rest of the Eolin-I. Everyone has to define their own character for themselves. It really doesn’t matter a tinkers damn what other people think of you if you can’t face your own reflection in the mirror. Leaving Round to frame Taylor was all well and good from a Gen-Tech stand-point. Still, I’d promised Jomain I’d make sure whoever killed his nest-fellows would not be able to do it ever again.

Cursing myself as a nit-wit, but also feeling a little proud of it, I made my decision.

“No, I have about thirty hours left. I am not done yet.”

Belinda’s eyes warmed, and a hint of a smile settled on her lips.

“Good. Then what is the next step? How do we move from all negatives to positives and resolution?’

How much of a fool am I? At least enough to feel a little thread of happiness at earning the smile.

“We keep running down inconsistencies. By the time we nail them down, all the wheat will be separated from the chaff.”

“Very well, let’s do that. I don’t suppose we can skip the meal with the Eolin-I?” Belinda asked, in that tone of voice that said she knew the answer.

“I’d like to, but I feel like I would have to explain why to them, and that would probably take as long as going and having a snack with them.”

Belinda looked like she wanted to argue, but she said nothing. She was probably remembering my very recent melt-down.

“Let’s get it done, then,” she said, and started us walking again.

Putting my own plan into action I shot an instant message to Lynn Delfor asking her to run down the details of the project Cho, O’Neil and Chandrakar had worked on. It was a loose string, and I was down to grasping at loose strings.

“We’re in uncharted waters here,” Simone Fergusson said. “This is the first time the Eolin-I have invited anyone into their nest.”

That didn’t scan for me, and still being in a touchy mood I spoke up.

“You have never been in their living area? I replace that hard to believe.”

The old Simone was instantly back; demonstrated by the fact she rolled her eyes at me. “Of course we’ve been in the enclosure. But in the five years they have been living there, no one has been invited in. There is a difference. The Mother asked to see you specifically and asked that you come alone. Why did she do that, Mr. Hunt?”

I shrugged, “You’re the expert on the Eolin-I, Doctor, don’t you know?”

“No, that’s why I am asking. Did you say something to Jomain to suggest this?”

“You were in the room with us the whole time. You know I didn’t.

Her face showed that she didn’t like the answer, but what could she do? It was the truth and she knew it. Instead of saying anything more she led me over to a very low door set in the one wall of the lab.

“We’ll be watching through the monitoring system, but you will be by yourself this time, Mr. Hunt. Do I need to remind you of the rules?”

“No, I got it. I promise I won’t upset them. But I do have a question; do they know you monitor their home?”

Simone gave me a flat look, then said, “Two days ago I would have said no. After seeing the computational ability Jomain displayed, I’m not quite as sure.”

Well, that was an honest answer at least. The part of my mind where I was storing up grievances about the way the ’lin-I were treated made a brand new entry under the heading “No privacy”. I pushed it away to keep from showing any upset to the gentle people. I ducked low and went through the door.

On the other side the ceiling was only a couple of inches higher than the door frame, so I was forced to stay stooped. In the light of the still open door an Eolin-I stood before me, his pupils glowing green.

“Jomain?” I guessed. His wide, sharp-toothed grin and nod told me I had guessed right.

“Jomain, yess, Misster Hunt,” he said and reached forward a small hand for mine. I let him take it and was gently led deeper into his home. I was glad for the guide, the light here being very low for humans. Their intended work time had led the G-T designers to give them excellent night-vision.

As my eyes adjusted I could see I was in a very large room, sixty feet or more on a side. Low furniture, love-seats and chairs without legs, were clustered here and there in the space.

Directly ahead of us, against the back wall, were the rest of the Eolin-I; sitting together in a large circle, watching us. What struck me first, the same as in Cho’s lab, was how nearly identical they were. There couldn’t have been a quarter inch in difference in their dimensions, with one exception.

Sitting in a chair all the way to the back was an ’lin-I like I had never seen. A little taller, I thought, though it was hard to tell being seated, but nearly twice as wide as all the others. Obviously the Mother.

Instead of the golden fur on the males, the Mother’s was streaked with a silver white, obviously not from age. She was dressed in the same blue jump suit I’d seen on all the Eolin-I, but as it curved over her torso, four breasts, one set above the other, were outlined by the fabric.

Jomain led me through the group and took a seat next to the Mother. I looked around, and saw I wouldn’t fit in any of the furniture, so I sat crossed-legged on the floor next to him.

“Mother, Misster Hunt,” Jomain lisped then fell silent.

“Thank you for inviting me” I said, with a little bow of my head. The definition of politeness isn’t uniform, even among humans, let alone newly fledged species. I still felt the need to give it the old college try.

The Mother tilted her head to one side, like a dog when it hears something new, then said, “Jomain say you look for ones who hurt Eolin-I, is true?”

“Yes. Jomain was very helpful.”

“Why? Why do? What Eolin-I to Hunt? Hunt is Big, not ’lin-I.”

A very interesting question; why had replaceing the janitors killer become as important to me as replaceing the one who’d killed Cho? I tried to put it in a way that she might understand.

“A Big hurt the ’lin-I, Mother. I don’t think it is right for bigger people to hurt smaller people. But smaller people can’t always stop them, so someone the same size has to do the job. I like the ’lin-I, and I am big, so I look for who hurt them.”

We lapsed into silence again as the Mother and the rest thought about what I’d said. She was staring directly into my eyes, not at all diffident like Jomain. I was startled to realize that I could see her thinking things through, weighing a decision. This was not at all what I’d been led to expect from them.

“Big’s help Bigs first. But you help ’lin-I, Hunt be ’lin-I?”

I wondered if what I thought she meant was accurate. It seemed to me she was asking if I wanted to be part of their family, tribe, species, whatever you want to call it. It wasn’t really clear, but if it was an invitation, I wasn’t going to turn it down.

“Yes, I would like it if you were my friends.”

The Mother gave a sharp nod as if that decided everything.

“Food, now,” she commanded. About half of those seated around us got up and went to an alcove in one wall. They returned bearing black and red plastic binto boxes, which they handed around to those who had stayed seated.

Opening mine I saw a piece of cooked chicken on rice, coleslaw without any dressing and a small orange. Glancing around, I could see that everyone had basically the same meal, though some had grapes or apple instead of oranges.

There was a little bit of trading one fruit offering for another, then everyone settled down to eat. There were no utensils, but all the food was only warm, not hot, so it wasn’t too much of a hardship to eat by hand.

My eyes had finally adjusted and I could see the room much better. There was a large space in one corner that looked like bedding. At a guess the ’lin-I probably all slept there in a puppy-pile.

Of far more interest to me was what they had done to the walls of their home. From floor to ceiling it was covered in art. Drawn, carved, and colored with bits of waste paper, the Eolin-I had made the walls into a vast mural.

The subjects were rather jumbled. I could see a depiction of Dr. Fergusson, done in hard dark lines; one of Cho with an exaggerated forehead, but a kind expression; views of what I assumed were labs; and a large, lovingly created image of the lobby, complete with Hector in flight, his wings glittering, covered with salvaged chewing-gum foil.

Art, math, a distinction between being a Big and being one of the Eolin-I. I don’t know what the hell Fergusson and Cho thought they were doing, but what they had created was something other than just an animal-servant species. In my book the Eolin-I were far more than that.

I made a point of eating some of everything in my box except for the orange; I like juice but am not a fan of the whole fruit. I noticed Jomain sneaking glances at it as we ate. I picked it up and offered it to him.

He had grapes in his box and started to gather them up, but I shook my head and offered him the fruit without a trade. He grinned and took it, bobbing his head up and down in thanks.

The exchange was noticed by others and I wondered if I’d upset the social order somehow. But no one said anything and everyone settled down. Eventually we all finished our food and the ones who’d hadn’t brought the food collected the boxes and took them back.

The Eolin-I didn’t seem to talk a lot amongst themselves, and, as much as I hate to admit it, I was getting a little bored. I had hoped this request for a meeting might be important, but it was beginning to look like it was just their version of politeness.

Glancing around I saw a stepped pyramid made of wood in one corner.

“Is that this building?” I asked Jomain, he being the ’lin-I I knew the best.

“Yess, our building,” he agreed.

“Show Mr. Hunt,” the Mother said in a tone of command as clear as that of any queen in history.

Four of my hosts rose and scurried to the corner. They picked up the model and brought it to where I was sitting.

It was made of wood. The level of detail in carving and paint was nothing short of astounding. Then the helpers took the top layers off and I could see inside. Halls and offices were laid bare, all showing the further detail.

“You like?” asked the Mother.

I grinned and nodded. They all grinned back.

“Did you, did the ’lin-I make this?” I asked.

“Yess, Mr. Hunt, we all help make.” Jomain said.

Someone must have given them pictures of the common areas and the residence halls. Each was there in startlingly clear detail and I knew the Eolin-I had yet to be allowed out the business areas of G-T. From the art on the walls I wouldn’t have guessed they could be so exact in their building. More hidden depths from these new people.

Maybe this meeting could be useful after all.

“Did you all visit Dr. Cho here?” I asked hoping to get more information like I’d gotten from Jomain. Instead every grin vanished in the low light. Did I say something wrong?

Before I could put a patch on my unknown social faux pas, the Mother spoke up.

“Jomain say about your shirt. He say it was green, orange and silver. This different shirt but same?” she asked pointing.

I was thrown by the sudden change in topic, but decided to go with it rather than press an issue that obviously made everyone unhappy.

“Yes, same type, but a different shirt. Don’t ’lin-I have different clothes?” It earned me a lot of blank looks. Apparently they all wore the blue jumpsuits all the time. It made me a little sad for them.

“I touch?” asked the Mother.

I had been through this with Jomain, so I shrugged leaned forward.

“Sure, go ahead,”

I expected that she’d pet me like Jomain had done. Instead, she grabbed a small handful of the collar and firmly pulled me to her. It put us cheek to cheek, and with her off-side hand she did begin petting the shirt. But I didn’t pay any attention to that as she also was whispering very low in my ear.

“Bigss sssee and hear in nessst” she began, “Dr. Cho was changing ’lin-I who visit, he sssay no tell. ’lin-I want you to replace one who hurt our brothersss, now I tell.”

It was a short and broken communication, but it hit my mind like nitrous oxide in a drag-racer. Cho had been experimenting on the ’lin-I! With their collaboration! Beyond that, they knew that they were watched and figured out a way to tell me this without the watchers knowing! I’d just been brought into the little people’s closest held confidence, and they trusted me not to blow it sky high.

The Mother let go of my collar and I sat back, trying my damnedest not to show the revelations whirling through my mind. I blinked a couple of times knowing if I didn’t speak soon, Ferguson’s team would surely know something was up. I finally hit on an idea.

“Would all of you like shirts like this?”

A sibilant and enthusiastic chorus of yes was my answer.

“Okay, I’ll make sure you get them. Everyone should have something other than work clothes to wear. It will be a thank you gift for inviting me to eat with you.”

That might be enough to keep Simone and crew from suspicion, or maybe not. I had another tactic to make sure they focused on me and my behavior instead of the ’lin-I. It was going to make heads explode I was sure. But I had to keep the secrets they had shared with me, not the least of which was that they could keep secrets.

“In the mean time, have any of you ever had gum?”

The puzzled looks were enough of a response. I reached into my pocket and took out both packs I was carrying. Opening one I fished out a piece and held it up.

“This is a kind of treat that Bigs have.” I peeled away the silver paper covering the stick of gum. From the glances I saw they were at least as interested in the wrapper as the gum, I popped it in my mouth and chewed with exaggerated motions. Then I took out another piece and offered it to the Mother.

She daintily took the gum and unwrapped it with her paw-hands. She held the gum up to her nose and took a sniff. Her eyes widened and she pulled her head back. I began to fear that I’d given them something toxic, but it turned out she was just startled by the intensity of the smell. I guess she’d never had mint before.

She speared me with a glance, maybe looking to see if this was a joke, but then folded the gum into her mouth and began chomping away. A closed lipped smile graced her face, making her look both more and less human and she nodded her approval.

After that I was gently mobbed by the other ’lin-I, all standing very close but politely waiting for their own piece.

Have you ever given candy to a group of kids? I never have, but I suspect that it would be very similar to what I saw all around me. I saw wonder and joy on every little face, and though the room was just as dim as before, it somehow radiated with happiness for a moment.

It is probably my favorite memory from Gen-Tech, all those designed people experiencing something we humans take for granted, for the very first time. If humans could experience that simple and unalloyed joy more often this evil old world would be a far better place.