If a few miserable war refugees have to meet their maker ahead of
schedule in order to save the world, is that really such a tragedy?”
“It’s only for the ones you judge worthy, right?” Ben said. “You want
to keep it from everyone else? There will be two classes of human
being.”
“The ruled and the rulers. But that’s inevitable, Ben. There will be
the Wise Men and the ruled masses. That’s the only way to engineer a
viable society. The world’s already overpopulated. Much of Africa
doesn’t even have clean drinking water. If everyone lives twice or
three times longer, think of what this will do! The world would
collapse! That’s why, in his wisdom, Lenz knows it must only be
available to the few.”
“And what happens to democracy? The rule of the people?”
Godwin’s cheeks colored. “Spare me the sentimental rhetoric, Ben. The
history of man’s inhumanity to man has been history itself: mobs
destroying what the nobility had painstakingly constructed. The main
task in politics has always been saving the people from themselves. This
wouldn’t go down well with the undergraduates, but the principle of
aristocracy was always correct: aristos, kratos rule of the best. The
problem was that aristocracy often didn’t give you the best. But
imagine if for the first time in human history, you could rationalize
the system, create a hidden aristocracy based on merit with
Wiedergeborenen serving as the custodians of civilization.”
Ben stood up and paced. His head spun. Goodwin, spinning his giddy
justifications, had been hooked by the irresistible lure of near
immortality
“Ben, you’re what, thirty-five, thirty-six? You imagine you will live
forever. I know I did at your age. But I want you to imagine being
eighty five ninety, God willing you live so long. You have a family,
you have
children and grandchildren. You’ve had a happy life, your work is
meaningful, and although you have all the normal afflictions of old age
”
“I’ll want to die,” Ben said curtly.
“Correct. If you’re in the condition of most people at that age. But
you don’t ever have to be ninety. If you begin this therapy now, you’ll
always be in your prime, in your mid-thirties God, what I’d give to be
your age! Please don’t tell me you have some ethical objection to it.”
“I’m not sure what to think at this point,” Ben said, watching Godwin
closely.
Godwin seemed to believe him.
“Good. You’re being open-minded. I want you to join us. Join the
Wiedergeborenen.”
Ben sank his head into his arms. “It’s certainly a tempting offer.” His
voice was muffled. “You make some very good points ”
“Are you still here, John?” interrupted Lenz’s voice, loud and
enthusiastic. “The last helicopter’s about to leave!”
Godwin rose swiftly. “I need to catch the shuttle,” he apologized. “I
want you to think about what we discussed.”
Lenz entered with his arm around a stoop-shouldered old man.
Jakob Sonnenfeld.
“Did you have a good talk?” Lenz inquired.
No. Not him, too. “You ” Ben blurted out to the old Nazi hunter,
revolted.
“I think we may have a new recruit,” Godwin said somberly, and gave Lenz
a brief but significant look.
Ben turned to face Sonnenfeld. “They knew where I was going in Buenos
Aires because of you, isn’t that right?”
Sonnenfeld looked pained. He averted his eyes. “There are times in
life when one must choose sides,” he said. “When my treatment begins ”
“Come, gentlemen,” Lenz interrupted again. “We must hurry.”
Ben could hear the roar of a helicopter outside, as Godwin and
Sonnenfeld moved toward the exit.
“Benjamin,” Lenz said without turning around. “Please stay right there.
I’m so glad to hear you may be interested in our project. So now you
and I must have a little talk.”
Ben felt something slam him from behind, and steel clamped against his
wrist.
Handcuffs.
There was no way out.
The guards dragged him through the great hall, past the exercise
equipment and the medical monitoring stations.
He screamed at the top of his lungs and let himself go limp. If any of
the Wiedergeborenen remained, they’d see him being abducted, and surely
they’d object. These were not evil people.
But none of them remained, at least no one he could see.
A third guard took his upper arm and joined the others. His legs and
knees slid painfully against the stone floor, the abrasions
excruciating. He kicked and struggled. A fourth arrived, and now they
were able to hold Ben by each limb, though he torqued himself back and
forth to make it as difficult for them as possible, and he kept
shouting.
They trundled him into an elevator. A guard pressed the second-floor
button. In seconds the elevator opened on to a stark white corridor. As
the guards carried him out–he’d ceased resisting; what was the point?–
a passing nurse gaped at him, then looked away quickly.
They brought him into what looked like a modified operating room and
hoisted him onto a bed. An orderly who appeared to have been expecting
him–had the guards radioed ahead?–fastened colored restraints to his
ankles and wrists, and then, once he was secured to the table, removed
the handcuffs.
Exhausted, he lay flat, his limbs immobile. All of the guards but one
filed out of the room, their work done. The remaining guard stood watch
by the closed door, an Uzi across his chest.
The door opened, and Jorgen Lenz entered. “I admire your cleverness,”
he said. “I’d been assured that the old cave was sealed or at least
impassable, so I thank you for pointing out the security risk. I’ve
already ordered the entrance dynamited.”
Ben wondered: Did Godwin really invite him to join them? Or was his old
mentor simply trying to neutralize him? Lenz was far too suspicious to
trust him anyway.
Or was he?
“Godwin asked me to join the project,” Ben said.
Lenz wheeled a metal cart over next to the bed and busied himself with a
hypodermic needle.
“Godwin trusts you’ Lenz said, turning around. “I myself do not.”
Ben watched his face. “Trusts me about what?”
“About respecting our need for confidentiality. About who you or your
investigative friend might have already talked to.”
Here was his vulnerability! “If you release her unharmed, you and I can
strike a bargain,” Ben said. “We each get what we want.”
“And, of course, I can trust you to keep your word.”
“It’d be in my own best interests,” Ben said.
“People do not always act in their own self-interest. If I were ever to
forget it, the angeli re belli were there to remind me.”
“Let’s keep it simple. My interest is in having you release Anna
Navarro. Yours is to keep your project secret. We have a mutual
interest in striking a deal.”
“Well,” Lenz said dubiously. “Perhaps. But first I’ll need a little
chemically inspired honesty, in case you don’t come by it naturally.”
Ben tried to suppress the wave of panic. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing harmful. A pleasant experience, in fact.”
“I don’t think you have time for this. Especially with law-enforcement
agents due to arrive at any second. This is your last chance to deal.”
“Ms. Navarro is here on her own,” Lenz said. “She hasn’t called in
anyone else. She told me so herself.” He held up the hypodermic. “And
I assure you she was speaking the truth.”
Keep conversing. Keep him diverted.
“How do you know you can trust the scientists on your team?”
“I don’t. Everything, all the materials, the computers, the sequencers,
the slides, the formulas for the infusions they’re all here.”
Ben pressed. “You’re still vulnerable. Somebody could get access to
whatever offsite storage arrangements you’ve got for the data files. And
no encryption is unbreakable.”
“Which is precisely why there is no offsite storage,” Lenz said, with
evident satisfaction in demonstrating the fallacies in Ben’s
suppositions. “That represents a risk I cannot afford. In all honesty,
I did not get where I am by placing excessive trust in my fellow man.”
“As long as we’re both being honest, let me ask you something.”
“Yes?” Lenz tapped Ben’s left forearm until a vein popped up.
“I’d like to know why you had my brother killed.”
Lenz jabbed a needle into the vein with what seemed unnecessary force.
“It should never have happened. It was done by fanatics among my
security people, and it’s something I deeply regret. A terrible
mistake. They were concerned that his discovery of Sigma’s original
board would imperil our work.”
Ben’s heart thudded, and again he fought to control himself. “And my
father? Did your ‘fanatics’ kill him, too?”
“Max?” Lenz looked surprised. “Max is a genius. I very much admire
the man. Oh no, I wouldn’t harm a hair on his head.”
“Then where is he?”
“Did he go somewhere?” Lenz asked innocently.
Move on.
“Then why kill all those other old men … ?”
There was a slight twitch under Lenz’s left eye. “Housecleaning. For