hoping to locate her other shadow. Looking up the stairs, past Takagi, she spotted his enormous partner near the top of the steps, having his portrait sketched by one of the ubiquitous street artists. Rather ominously, he kept his shades on while posing seated upon a stool that looked two sizes too small, his opaque gaze studiously directed away from Roberta and his accomplice. Now, this guy’s probably a pro, she surmised, wondering why they had decided to let the amateur make the first approach.
“So, you’re here for the conference, too?” she asked, as casually as possible. Now that she had possibly hit the jackpot, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. Just play it by ear, she told herself. The most important thing now was not to scare either of the two men away.
“Exactly,” Takagi said warmly, as though they were old friends. “You’re American, correct?”
“That’s right,” she said. “From the University of Washington, in Seattle.” She lied confidently, knowing that Seven had already established a paper trail backing up her fictitious identity, just in case anyone felt inclined to check up on her. There was even a fully furnished apartment in Seattle’s U. district, complete with a working phone number, newspaper and magazine subscriptions, photo albums, diplomas, and all the other accoutrements of Ronnie Neary’s imaginary existence.
“That was a pretty brave position you took this morning,” Takagi observed, “especially given most people’s irrational aversion to radical genetic engineering for its own sake.” She noted that he did not volunteer any information about where he was working these days. “Not everyone would be willing to go out on a limb like that, particularly at so public a forum.” He eyed Roberta hopefully. “Were those your actual views on the subject, or were you just playing devil’s advocate?”
Roberta told him exactly what she figured he wanted to hear. “Not at all. Recombinant DNA research is the most exciting thing to come [40] around since the discovery of the wheel. I really think it can change humanity—for the better, of course.”
“Me, too!” Takagi exclaimed. His dark brown eyes lighted up at the prospect. “We may be the first generation to actually take control of our own biological destiny. It’s a chance to create a whole new world, full of better, healthier, and more intelligent people.”
“A veritable genetic golden age,” she suggested, finding Takagi’s optimism and enthusiasm surprisingly infectious. He certainly didn’t seem like the sort of person to be mixed up in the kind of sinister experiments Seven envisioned, let alone the abduction of his fellow scientists. Maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree here, she mused.
“Hey, I like that!” he said encouragingly. “The Golden Age of Genetics, that’s a good phrase.” He pulled a small spiral notebook from his pocket and jotted the slogan down. “Sounds like we’re on the same wavelength,” he continued. “In fact, I may know about a project that might intrigue you.” He paused momentarily, glancing upward at his burly ... bodyguard? Baby-sitter? “I’m really not at liberty to discuss the details right now, but perhaps we could discuss it later, over drinks or something?”
“I’d like that,” Roberta said, trying to sound interested, but not too interested. “Are you staying at the Hotel Palaestro?”
After another hesitant pause, Takagi revealed that he was indeed rooming at the same hotel as Roberta. They agreed to meet later that evening at the hotel bar. “Great,” he concluded, giving her a parting nod. “I’ll let you finish your lunch then. Nice meeting you, Dr. Neary.”
Without a backward glance at either Roberta or his former companion, he marched down the wide marble steps to the piazza below, swiftly disappearing into the milling crowd of tourists, artists, and flower vendors. She waited to see if Mighty Joe Young would take off after
“So, you’re here for the conference, too?” she asked, as casually as possible. Now that she had possibly hit the jackpot, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. Just play it by ear, she told herself. The most important thing now was not to scare either of the two men away.
“Exactly,” Takagi said warmly, as though they were old friends. “You’re American, correct?”
“That’s right,” she said. “From the University of Washington, in Seattle.” She lied confidently, knowing that Seven had already established a paper trail backing up her fictitious identity, just in case anyone felt inclined to check up on her. There was even a fully furnished apartment in Seattle’s U. district, complete with a working phone number, newspaper and magazine subscriptions, photo albums, diplomas, and all the other accoutrements of Ronnie Neary’s imaginary existence.
“That was a pretty brave position you took this morning,” Takagi observed, “especially given most people’s irrational aversion to radical genetic engineering for its own sake.” She noted that he did not volunteer any information about where he was working these days. “Not everyone would be willing to go out on a limb like that, particularly at so public a forum.” He eyed Roberta hopefully. “Were those your actual views on the subject, or were you just playing devil’s advocate?”
Roberta told him exactly what she figured he wanted to hear. “Not at all. Recombinant DNA research is the most exciting thing to come [40] around since the discovery of the wheel. I really think it can change humanity—for the better, of course.”
“Me, too!” Takagi exclaimed. His dark brown eyes lighted up at the prospect. “We may be the first generation to actually take control of our own biological destiny. It’s a chance to create a whole new world, full of better, healthier, and more intelligent people.”
“A veritable genetic golden age,” she suggested, finding Takagi’s optimism and enthusiasm surprisingly infectious. He certainly didn’t seem like the sort of person to be mixed up in the kind of sinister experiments Seven envisioned, let alone the abduction of his fellow scientists. Maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree here, she mused.
“Hey, I like that!” he said encouragingly. “The Golden Age of Genetics, that’s a good phrase.” He pulled a small spiral notebook from his pocket and jotted the slogan down. “Sounds like we’re on the same wavelength,” he continued. “In fact, I may know about a project that might intrigue you.” He paused momentarily, glancing upward at his burly ... bodyguard? Baby-sitter? “I’m really not at liberty to discuss the details right now, but perhaps we could discuss it later, over drinks or something?”
“I’d like that,” Roberta said, trying to sound interested, but not too interested. “Are you staying at the Hotel Palaestro?”
After another hesitant pause, Takagi revealed that he was indeed rooming at the same hotel as Roberta. They agreed to meet later that evening at the hotel bar. “Great,” he concluded, giving her a parting nod. “I’ll let you finish your lunch then. Nice meeting you, Dr. Neary.”
Without a backward glance at either Roberta or his former companion, he marched down the wide marble steps to the piazza below, swiftly disappearing into the milling crowd of tourists, artists, and flower vendors. She waited to see if Mighty Joe Young would take off after
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