"You want it? Take it!" Jason, his oldest, mashed the hot dog with the bun into Sam's face. Sam howled and acted like he was choking. Now they were rolling on the floor.
"Dad! Dad! Stop him! He's choking me."
"Jason, don't choke your brother."
Jason paid no attention. Rick grabbed him by the collar and pulled him off Sam. "I said, don't choke him."
"I wasn't. He asked for it."
"You want to lose TV tonight? No? Then eat your own hot dog and let your brother eat his."
Rick picked up the spoon to feed the baby, but she closed her mouth stubbornly, staring at him with beady little hostile eyes. He sighed. What was it that made kids in high chairs refuse to eat, and throw all their toys on the floor? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for his wife to have gone away, he thought.
As for the office, the situation was even worse. His ex-security guy had been humping Lisa, and now that he was out of jail, he was undoubtedly humping her again. That girl had zero taste. If Brad was convicted of pedophilia, that would be bad publicity for the company, but even so, Rick hoped for it. Josh Winkler's wonder drug was apparently killing people. Josh had gone way out on a limb, doing his own unauthorized human testing, but if he were sent to jail, that would reflect badly on the company, too.
He was poking at his daughter with the spoon when the phone rang. And things became much, much worse.
"Son of a bitch!"
Rick Diehl turned away from the banks of security screens. "I can't believe it," he said. On the screens, the hated Brad Gordon was swiping open doors to the labs, touching Petri dishes everywhere, and moving on. Brad had been recorded as he went methodically through all the labs in the building. Rick bunched his fists.
"He came into the building at one in the morning," the security temp said. "He must have had an admin card we didn't know about, because his was disabled. He went to all the storage points, and he contaminated every single culture in the Burnet cell line."
Rick Diehl said, "He's an asshole, but there's no problem. We have off-site bio-storage in San Jose, London, and Singapore."
"Actually, those samples were removed yesterday," the security temp said. "Someone picked up the cell lines and left. They had proper authorization. Secure e-transmission of codes."
"Who authorized it?"
"You did. It came from your secure account."
"Oh Christ." He spun. "How didthat happen?"
"We're working on it."
"But the cell line," Rick said, "we have other sites - "
"Unfortunately, it seems..."
"Well, then we have customers who have leased - "
"I'm afraid we don't."
"What are you saying?" Rick said. He was starting to scream. "Are you saying every fucking Burnet culture is gone? In the entire fucking world? Gone?"
"As far as we know. Yes."
"This is a goddamndisaster. "
"Evidently."
"This could be the end of my company! That was our safety net, those cells. We paid a fortune to UCLA for them. You're saying they're gone?" Rick frowned angrily, as the reality hit him. "This is an organized, coordinated attack on my company. They had people in London and Singapore; they had everything arranged."
"Yes. We believe so."
"To destroy my company."
"Possibly."
"I need to get those cell lines back. Now."
"No one has them. Except, of course, Frank Burnet."
"Then let's get Burnet."
"Unfortunately, Mr. Burnet seems to have vanished, too. We can't seem to locate him."
"Great," Rick said. "Just great." He turned and yelled to his assistant, "Get the fucking lawyers, get fucking UCLA here, and get everybody here by eight o'clock tonight!"
"I don't know if - "
"Do it!"
CHapter 044
Gail Bondfell into a routine. She would spend the night with Yoshi, then come home at six in the morning to wake up Evan, give him breakfast, and see him off to school. One morning, as soon as she unlocked the door, she saw that Gerard was gone. His cage stood uncovered in the hallway, his perch unoccupied. Gail swore. She went into the bedroom, where Richard was still sleeping. She shook him awake.
"Richard. Where's Gerard?"
He yawned. "What?"
"Gerard. Where's Gerard?"
"I'm afraid there's been an accident."
"What accident? What have you done?"
"The cage was being cleaned in the kitchen, and the window was open. He flew out."
"He did not. His wings were clipped."
"I know that," Richard said, yawning again.
"He did not fly out."
"All I can tell you is that I heard Nadezhda shriek, and when I came to the kitchen, she was pointing out the window, and when I looked, the bird was fluttering awkwardly to the ground. Of course I ran downstairs to the street at once, but he was gone."
The bastard was trying not to smile.
"Richard, this is very serious. That is a transgenic animal. If he escapes he may transmit his genes to other parrots."
"I am telling you, it was an accident."
"Where is Nadezhda?"
"She comes in at noon now. I thought I would cut back."
"Does she have a cell?"
"You hired her, pet."
"Don't call me pet. I don't know what you have done with that grey, but this is extremely serious, Richard."
He shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you."
Of course it ruinedall her plans. They had intended to publish online the following month, and inevitably there would be cries from around the world that their claim was untrue. Scientists would call it the Clever Hans effect, mere mimicry, God knows what else. Everyone would demand to see the bird. And now the bird was gone.