Dr. Tarver laughed out loud.

"So you're telling me," said Biddle, "that we could set this virus loose in a slum in Shanghai, and-"

"By the time the first cases started dying, they'd have fifteen months of exponential infection. It would be in every major Chinese city. They'd see a host of different cancers, not just one. The chaos would be unimaginable."

"It would also have leaped the oceans," Biddle observed.

Eldon's smile vanished. "Yes. We'd have to accept some casualties. But only for a while. With the example of AIDS, most countries would initiate crash programs to find a vaccine. Your company could take the lead in the U.S."

"And you could head it up," said Biddle. "Is that what you're thinking?"

"I shouldn't lead it. But I should be part of it. And after a reasonable amount of time-before the death toll climbs too high over here-we'll come forward with an experimental vaccine."

"The rest of the world would demand access to it."

"Over the objections of their medical establishments. You know the ego battles involved in this kind of research. Look at Gallo and the French. Also, no one but us could be sure that our vaccine worked. The delays could last years, but our population would be protected the entire time."

"How difficult would it be for someone else to develop a vaccine?"

"Without knowing what I know? Twenty years is optimistic. We're talking about a retrovirus. Look at HIV as a model. It's been around since 1978, and-"

"Longer," Biddle corrected quietly.

Tarver raised an eyebrow. "In any case, we still don't have an AIDS vaccine. We're not even close."

"Nevertheless, with China's population, this wouldn't be a decisive weapon, but rather a destabilizing one."

"You want apocalypse? I can give you that."

"How?"

Eldon held up his hands and drew them apart. "Simply lengthen the incubation period. I could stretch it to the scale of something like multiple myeloma. Twenty-five to thirty years."

Amazement now. "Could you really?"

"Of course. I've purposefully shortened the incubation in my work."

"Why?"

"To be able to carry out my research in a measurable time frame. Lengthen the incubation to twenty years, and I'd be dead before I saw my first results."

Biddle wet his lips with his pale tongue. "With a five-year incubation period, seventy percent of the population over fifteen could be infected before anyone got sick. Even if they had an effective vaccine, it would be too late. They'd already be battling total social breakdown."

"Yes." Eldon lowered his voice. "I'll tell you something else. I think I can make these viruses race-specific."

Biddle blinked in disbelief. "This is Herman Kahn territory. Thinking about the unthinkable."

"Somebody has to do it. Or all our ancestors will have lived and died for nothing. The world will be inherited by-"

"Don't even say it," said Biddle. "In whatever discussions we may have in future-with whatever people-don't mention that side of it. The Darwinian side."

"Why not?"

"You don't have to. The right people will understand the implications."

Eldon leaned forward again. "I trust your instincts. So…now that you know what I'm offering, I'd like to hear how interested you are."

And what I'm willing to pay, said Biddle's eyes. But his mouth said, "Obviously, I'm interested. But just as obviously, there are some issues."

"Such as?"

Biddle gave him a knowing smile, a shared look between equals. "You're ahead of your time, Eldon. You always were. You know that."

Tarver nodded but said nothing.

"But," Biddle went on, a note of optimism in his voice, "not nearly so far ahead as you once were. The regulatory climate has been hell since the Clinton years, but things are loosening up. Everyone's ramping up their primate-breeding capacity. They've finally realized that you can only go so far in the lower species."

"And of course China's far ahead of everyone else in that, too."

Biddle conceded this with a nod. "So far ahead that we're already doing some of our primate research there."

Eldon shook his head in disgust.

Biddle shifted in his seat. "Of course, when the other shoe drops-politically speaking-all those projects will be nationalized, and you'll be Cassandra vindicated. You'll look like the Messiah, Eldon."

"How long before that shoe drops?"

"No way to know. But that's not critical to our arrangement. As for getting you a new identity, I can take care of that in a few days. If you want money, real money-"

"I want what this technology is worth."

A look of slight surprise. "That will take longer."

"How much longer?"

"Hmm…three years? Maybe five?"

Anger and bitterness rose from Tarver's gut.

"It could be sooner," Biddle added, "depending on a score of factors. But I don't want you to be under any illusions. And after all, money was never your primary motivation, was it?"

"I'm fifty-nine, Edward. The world looks different than it did in 1970."

Biddle nodded. "You don't have to tell me. But think about this. You'll be going to work for a company that understands your particular needs. I'll be your sole liaison, if you like. You'll have a free hand with research."

"Can you promise that? No one looking over my shoulder?"

"Guaranteed. My concern, old friend, is the risk of waiting even one minute to move to the next phase. I want you to come with me now. Today. This minute."

Tarver drew back, his palms tingling with foreboding. "Why?"

"I don't want to risk anything happening to you before my people see your research. I want your data today, Eldon. All of it."

"We haven't agreed to anything yet."

Biddle looked hard into his eyes. When the TransGene man spoke, it was with the gravity of a soldier, not a corporate officer. His voice was edged with steel and brimming with heartfelt emotion. "Listen to me, Eldon. The money will come. Recognition will come, too, from the proper quarters. But what's most important is what you'll be doing for your country. You know what's coming. The fucking dragon is getting stronger by the day. He's already eating out of our bowl, and pretty soon-" A look of self-disgust twisted Biddle's mouth. "Shit, I'm not even saying we deserve to survive, given the way most Americans have pissed away their birthright. But those of us who remember what makes us great…it's up to us to insure our national survival. I've bled for this country, Eldon. You have, too, in your way. But you don't resent it, do you? I think you feel the same obligation I do."

Dr. Tarver looked down at his desk. There had never been any question of refusing, of course. He had merely hoped that the more tangible symbols of appreciation would come his way more quickly. But that was all right. With Andrew Rusk's diamonds added to what remained of his own, he would be comfortable for as long as it took TransGene or the government to compensate him fairly.

"All right, Edward. I'm on board."

Biddle's face split in an expansive smile. Then he wrung his hands together and said, "Let's talk timing. I'm serious about expediting this. I want to move you out of here today."

Eldon held up his hands. "We haven't seen each other for two years. I'm not going to step in front of a bus before tomorrow."

"You don't know that. A drunk could run you over. A punk could knock you on the head. Lightning could strike you-"

"Or I could find a richer bidder?" Eldon said bluntly.

His words hit Biddle like a sucker punch to the throat. "Are you looking for one?" he asked quietly.

"No. But I need a day, Edward. One day."

Suspicion clouded Biddle's eyes. "What kind of loose ends could possibly justify waiting?"

For a moment Eldon considered asking his old colleague to take care of Alex Morse for him. The TransGene director undoubtedly had military or intelligence contacts who could take her out and make it look like an accident. But if Biddle and the TransGene board perceived Eldon Tarver as a risk to the company, a man who had left a trail that could one day lead the authorities to their darkest secrets, they might decide to eliminate him as soon as they possessed the virus and its documentation. No, he needed to enter his new life clean, an unblemished hero to Biddle and his breed. Fucking Lancelot, for once in his life.