“You have a cynical turn of mind, Mister . . . Kieran,” Sarda said, sounding mildly admonishing.
“I told you, I’m paid to have. I just can’t get out of the habit.”
“Then I’ll set your mind at rest. A big trans-system like Three Cs employs some pretty hard-boiled, cynical people too. They wouldn’t put money into something like this until they were certain, either.” The waitress came back, and Sarda paused to take his glass. He took a draft and looked back at Kieran. “There was what I guess you’d call a macabre kind of ceremony conducted down in the T-Lab yesterday. It involved several independent scientists and medical people, a legal notarizing official, plus representatives from Three Cs and their main interested funding organization. We—”
Kieran raised a hand to spare Sarda having to go through the details. “You went down with them while they opened up the door in the T-Lab. And they verified that the item being kept on ice down there . . .”
“It’s more of a field-induced suspension these days.”
“Whatever. But they verified that it’s an authentic original of you.”
Sarda nodded. “Documents to that effect are available for anyone having an appropriate interest from now on.” The purpose, Kieran could see, would be to avoid having to keep two of them around forever as proof that the process worked.
“When did this happen yesterday?” Kieran asked curiously.
“In the afternoon. That was why I had to get back after lunch. It was one of the things we wrap up under `tests.’ ”
“And it all went okay? Everyone was happy?”
“Just fine.”
None of which explained Sarda’s agitation that morning. Kieran eyed him questioningly. “So?”
Sarda shifted position, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “Exactly what the deal is with Three Cs doesn’t really matter. But let me tell you something about my own arrangement with Quantonix. That was something of an experience I went through. Even after all the rats and monkeys had come out of it okay, it’s still not exactly the kind of thing you have to deal with every day.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Leo,” Kieran agreed with feeling. “Even after hearing your spiel yesterday, I’ve been telling June that I wouldn’t buy it.”
“And the Quantonix directors understand that.” Sarda waved briefly with a hand. “Oh, sure, I know that traditionally the inventor is supposed to be his own guinea pig, but this is in a different ballpark than some new vaccine or a headache pill. So they agreed to some additional remuneration—a bonus for taking the risk.”
“But payable only upon a successful demonstration of the process,” Kieran guessed. That was how he would have stipulated it.
“Yes. Payable yesterday, on satisfactory completion of the certification documents that I just told you about.”
“And it was paid as agreed?”
“Oh, sure.”
“Can I ask how much?”
“Two million initially. More later when certain conditions are met.” Kieran nodded in a way that said Sarda could have done worse. “And then there are advance options on certain movie rights and media exclusives—the word was discreetly leaked in the appropriate places. The first guy to do this is a guaranteed celebrity when the whole thing breaks publicly.”
Kieran nodded again. “And that makes you another . . . what?”
“Oh, you’re getting close to about another three.”
“Million?”
“Right.”
So five in all. That could add considerably to one’s quality of life, Kieran supposed. “So what’s the problem?” he asked.
“It’s gone.”
Kieran had one of his rare moments of not being immediate on the uptake. “What has?”
“The money. All of it. I’ve been cleaned out.” Sarda waited, but just at that instant Kieran could only blink. Sarda spread his hands. “It’s impossible, but it happened. It was lodged in a secure account that I’d set up for the purpose at the Lowell Barham Bank, with personalized passwords and identity codes, all the usual ID procedures that banks insist on. But none of it did any good. This morning it was gone in untraceable withdrawals. The bank insists everything was processed legitimately, with authenticated signatures and authorizations. They’re denying any responsibility.”
Kieran stared at him disbelievingly. His mind had resumed working again; already, the germ of what could be an explanation was suggesting itself, but it seemed too bizarre. Check out the alternatives first, he told himself.