“Stay here, Kek,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

The mandrilla made no sign that he’d heard, but she knew he had.

“We’llbe right back,” Patrick said. He cut her off as she opened her mouth to tell him she’d go alone. “We do this together.”

Romy sensed arguing wasn’t going to work so she nodded and motioned him to follow her. She moved off at a trot, heard his sloshing footsteps close behind.

Down the alley…nothing. Into the courtyard…nothing. Down a second alley…noth—

Wait. Voices to her left. Where? From that opening. Tome’s voice. Without hesitation she ducked and entered in a crouch. She heard Patrick puffing behind her. Ahead she could see that the tunnel opened into a vacant lot. And there, across the lot, Zero and Tome crouched before an open metal door, talking to no one, or at least no one she could see.

“Wait,” Patrick whispered. “Don’t go out there. Looks like they found her. Two more humans will only spook her.”

“She’ll be spooked a lot worse if more of Portero’s goons show up. They’d better talk her out of there soon or all this will be for nothing. We’ll give them a couple more minutes, then we’ve got to get out of here.”

“Might take more than a couple of minutes,” Patrick sighed. “I mean, would you trust a stranger in a ski mask?”

“Damn,” Romy said, feeling as if the tunnel walls were closing in on her. “She doesn’t come out in two minutes, I’ll go in there myself and drag her out.”

“Shhh!” Patrick hissed. “I’ll be damned! I think Zero’s going to take off his mask!”

Romy looked and—dear God, Patrick was right. Remaining statue-still, she held her breath and watched.

This is going nowhere, Zero thought. And it’s because of me. Or because of this ski mask.

No question about it: Meerm was in that elevator shaft, hiding in the dark, but she wasn’t budging. Tome was doing his best, but he wasn’t cut out for persuasion. Zero could try going in after her, and that would work if the space beyond the door was limited to just the shaft. But what if it opened into the rest of the warehouse? They’d never find her.

All right. He couldn’t blow this chance. It might never come again. Time to put it all on the line.

Zero pulled off his dark glasses, slipped his thumbs under the edge of his ski mask, and ripped it off.

“Look, Meerm,” he said, leaning through the open door. “Look at me. I’m not a man. I’m a sim. Not a sim exactly like you, but a sim just the same. And I promise you, Meerm, I swear to you that I am not here to harm you. Just the opposite. I am here to help you and protect you from being harmed by the bad men.”

Zero waited, hoping he’d said enough, praying he hadn’t said too much. He glanced at Tome who was staring at him with wide eyes. He nodded to the old sim, to let him know, yes, this is true. Maybe…maybe if only Tome and Meerm knew, he could still keep his secret. The two sims would talk, of course, but Zero could tell Romy and Patrick that he’d used makeup to look like a sim so he could coax Meerm out. They’d buy it. It was much more plausible than the truth.

Zero refocused on the black hole of the elevator shaft. He heard a rustle within, and then a hoarse, fragile voice…

“Is true? You not man?”

“No, Meerm.” Zero fought back a sob. It had worked. He could feel Meerm tipping his way. “I’m a sim too. But if I am to help you, we must hurry from here. Now.”

“Meerm want go.” And now a face, a swollen, care-ravaged sim face, floated into the light. “Meerm not like here. But…”

“We must go now, Meerm. The bad men are looking for you. If they come before—”

Meerm stepped out into the light. Zero gasped at the sight of her—her belly so big and her ankles so swollen she could barely move. She took a step forward, but caught her foot and started to fall. Zero grabbed her, then lifted her into his arms. She was heavy for a sim, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Don’t be afraid, Meerm,” he said in a soothing voice as she started to struggle. “You’re okay, now. I’ll make you safe and keep you that way. No one will hurt you ever again.”

As he turned toward the tunnel he saw two figures emerging from its entrance. Romy and Patrick, faces ashen, mouths agape, eyes fixed on his nonhuman face. They couldn’t miss its yellow eyes and simian cast—his brow ridge was not so pronounced as Meerm and Tome’s, he knew, his nose not quite as flat, but he was unmistakably sim like.

Oh, no, he thought as dismay softened his knees and he almost stumbled. Oh, God, what have I done?

Just when they were so close to success, he’d ruined everything. Now the whole organization would fall apart because…because who’d want to follow a sim?

Even worse was the uncomprehending look of betrayal he saw in Romy’s eyes.

But he had to press on. She looked away as he approached, so he addressed Patrick.

“Help me get her through the tunnel. We haven’t got much time.”

Patrick blinked, hesitated a heartbeat, then nodded. “Less than you think.”

As they eased Meerm into the opening, Zero prayed Romy would follow.

10

Silence ruled the van. Zero leaned forward as Patrick piloted them toward the freeway.

“Follow the signs toward the Goethals Bridge,” he told him.

He glanced at Romy, huddled against the passenger door at the far end of the front seat, staring dead ahead without blinking, looking as if she were in a trance.

I’ve really done it now, Zero thought. I’ve lost her. She’ll never trust me again.

Meerm whimpered at his side. She was curled next to him on the rear seat. He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Tome and Kek hunched behind them in the open rear section.

“Goethals,” Patrick said. “Got it. But I think…I think we…” He seemed to run out of words.

“You think you deserve an explanation,” Zero said. “Of course you do.”

“I mean,” Patrick said, “I feel as if the world just tipped ninety degrees.”

Zero glanced again at Romy who still hadn’t moved. She’d known him so much longer than Patrick. Her world must feel even further out of kilter.

“You’re not human?” Patrick said.

“No.”

“I heard you tell Meerm that you’re a sim.”

“I am.”

“But how come you don’t…?”

“…look like the average sim? I’m one of the earliest, so early that you’ll find no UPC tattoo on the nape of my neck. Plus I’m a mutant—bigger and paler than my brother sims—too big and too human-looking for the workforce. So they kept me separate. I was raised in SimGen’s basic research facility and after a while I became a mascot of sorts. My only contacts growing up were the Sinclair brothers and their most trusted techs. Later, when Harry Carstairs arrived to take over sim training, he took a special interest in me.”

Harry…how he’d loved Harry Carstairs. The man’s daily visits had been the high point of his adolescence.

“He was impressed by my linguistic skills so he tested my intelligence; when he found it to be not only far above sim average but above human average as well, he and—”

He cut himself off. Better not mention Ellis.

“He got permission to see how far they could take me. I learned to read, and built up my own library; I was never allowed out of basic research, but television gave me a window onto the rest of the world. Harry and I…I guess you might say we bonded. He taught me to play chess and we spent hours hovering over the board.”

He missed Harry, especially their chess games. Every so often Zero would give in to a compulsion to see the man. He’d sneak by Harry’s house at night and watch him as he sat and played chess against his computer; he’d longed to knock on the window and challenge him to a game. But Harry believed him dead, and had to go on believing that.

Patrick said, “But how did you graduate from SimGen mascot to Zero, SimGen nemesis?”