“There’s been another robbery,” said Sunny.
Abraham Decker looked up from Lyle Fontanelle’s desk. Don’t look at the filing cabinet. Don’t look at the filing cabinet. “A robbery? Of ReBirth?”
Sunny nodded. “And another salvo from Kuvam: he’s curing a child of cystic fibrosis. A whole group of kids, apparently. It’s like he’s manufacturing cultists. Carl’s called an emergency meeting, but I wanted to talk to you first.”
Decker ventured a guess, and tried to sound more certain than he felt. “Have you finally decided to market ReBirth medically?”
“That’s part of what I’m here to talk to you about,” said Sunny. “You’ve got to stop fighting this all the time—you’ve got to stop fighting us. Cynthia’s already calling for your head.”
“But I’m supporting everything,” said Decker. He’d only been with NewYew for a few hours, and already his position was in danger of collapsing—not because of his own actions, but because of Lyle’s. “I’ve vetted your genetics reports, I’ve signed off on all the new product designs; I mean, I’m the one who made the stuff, Sunny. I support you.” He worried that he’d overdone it, and backtracked a little to sound like the real Lyle. ‘I’m just … also suggesting other avenues.”
“But it’s too much,” said Sunny. “You kick and you scratch and you resist us every step of the way, and that’s not the kind of behavior that wins you friends. When problems show up, like this new robbery, we look around and take stock of our enemies and you’re always on that list. I stand up for you when I can, but … you’re not making it easy. You’ve got to calm it down.”
“You think I’m the one who stole the lotion,” said Decker. This was too soon. He hadn’t even stolen anything yet, and they already suspected him—which means they suspected the real Lyle. What had he done that Ibis didn’t know about? “I haven’t done anything to betray you—I’ve walked the line the whole way, every time—”
“They already suspect that you were the leak with Guru Kuvam,” said Sunny. “And now, with a whole case missing—”
“A whole case?” Decker’s blood froze. I didn’t steal a whole case!
“I’m not saying you took it—”
“I didn’t take it,” said Decker.
“I’m not saying you did—”
“No, I’m serious,” said Decker, “I didn’t take it. Was it blank?”
Sunny nodded. “Thirty tubes. Sixty ounces.”
Decker closed his eyes. “Mother of Mercy. Sixty ounces, loose—worse than loose, they’re in the hands of someone with the kind of resources to break in and take whatever they want. Why didn’t you—” He stopped himself before saying “Why didn’t you tell me someone else was stealing ReBirth?” I thought we were the only ones—our surveillance didn’t indicate that anyone else even knew about the product. What’s going on? He took a breath to recenter himself. “What is someone going to do with sixty ounces of blank ReBirth?”
Sunny shook his head. “I don’t … Look, Lyle, I don’t know who took it. I’m not saying it was you—”
“Yes you are!” said Decker, now even more nervous. His charade as Lyle Fontanelle had just begun, and now it was crumbling before he even had a chance to use it for anything. “You’ve said three times you don’t think it’s me—if you really don’t think it’s me, then why won’t you let it drop?”
“Listen, Lyle, I am sticking my neck out for you, okay? I came in here because you’re my friend, or you used to be, and I don’t know what you’re doing but it’s stupid, Lyle, it’s reckless and its dangerous and it’s stupid. They’re serious about this, Lyle. You know they have Susan.”
Decker sat back in his chair, forcing himself to look … not calm, because Lyle was never calm, but … not frantic, either. Nervous but not guilty. “What are they going to do?”
“They’re not going to do anything, if you start being smart about this. Now, we don’t have much time left, but I’m going to leave for the meeting and you’ll have a minute or two to do whatever you need to do—I’m not saying you need to do anything, but if you do … I don’t know. Marcus and his men will be here in about four minutes. If you need to…” He stopped. “I don’t know. I’ll see you at the meeting.” He opened the door, stopped, and turned back. “Be smart about this, Lyle.”
He left.
Decker sat, motionless, sorting through the implications of the conversation. They think I stole something—which I did, just not the thing they think I stole. But it doesn’t matter what they think I stole because if they find the ones I actually stole I’m as good as dead. If not for Sunny I would be dead—it’s good to know Lyle has at least one friend in here.
It’s going to make betraying them so much easier.
Decker walked quickly to the filing cabinet, opening the third drawer and pulling it out as far as it would go. In the back was a small cardboard box with ten small vials of blank ReBirth, half an ounce each. Future shipments would be smaller, but for now these half-ounce vials were being prepped as a launch event bonus: 200 percent more, absolutely free, but only if you buy now. Buy now. Decker shook his head. The size of these vials is really kind of terrifying all on its own. It’s simply too much ReBirth to be in any one place.
He laughed nervously. I’m even starting to sound like Lyle.
He sat down at his desk, pulled his tape dispenser and tissues within easy reach, and opened the box. The vials glinted in the light—thin glass cylinders with narrow plastic lids. He wrapped each one in tape to keep them sealed, then in tissue paper to keep them from clinking, and then looked down at his socks. Did he dare? Even having them on his desk was frightening; to put them so close to his skin, where a single crack could contaminate him in a heartbeat, was terrifying. They were still blank—that is, they were supposed to be blank—but how could he be sure? What would even happen if he imprinted a new vial—would it carry Lyle’s DNA, or Decker’s, or some unholy combination of both?
It didn’t matter: NewYew had started checking bags, to make sure nobody took any lotion without permission. Hiding the vials was the only way to get them out of the building. He slid each little packet down into his socks, shivering with a sudden cold sweat.
With the last vial safely in place he stood and examined his pants, making sure they hung properly around his calves. The vials were completely hidden. He stepped, testing the way the pants raised and the socks moved; it looked good. This might work. He looked at his watch and smiled. Just in time.
Decker broke down the thin cardboard box and folded it into a tight wad, hiding it in his pocket—if they searched the office, he didn’t want them to find even that. He grabbed Lyle’s laptop and phone and left the office, heading down the hall to the elevator. There was no sign of Marcus Eads or the rest of the security team. And now? he thought. Now I play the game, better than Lyle ever played it. Sunny wants a team player, and I can be the best damn team player they’ve ever seen. I don’t care about Lyle’s medical hobbyhorse at all—I can drop that in a second, and toe the company line and do exactly what they want. I can be a better Lyle than Lyle was.
The elevator dinged, not the up light but the down, and when the doors opened Decker looked up, saw the passenger, and froze in midthought. It was Lyle, another Lyle, standing there in the same suit, the same face, the same haircut. Their eyes met—the same eyes—and for just a moment the other Lyle seemed as shocked as he was, and then the doors closed and the other Lyle disappeared again.
Decker stared, frozen in place, and a moment later the elevator opened again. Empty. Decker shivered.
Who else is here? He can’t be the real one, and he can’t be from Ibis—we don’t have anybody else at NewYew right now. It’s too big of a risk. The elevator hung open and empty, while Decker’s mind roiled in terror. Does NewYew have other Lyles? Of course not. They didn’t even trust the one they had, and all the accidental copies were locked down in São Tomé. Then who could it be?
Realization dawned just as the elevator doors began to close, and Decker shot out his hand to catch them.
It’s the other thief—the one who stole sixty ounces. The other thief is a Lyle.
And I can’t expose him without making my own face a liability. They’d never trust another Lyle again.
He stepped into the elevator, hit the button, and turned to face the door. He watched it slide closed, just as the other Lyle had watched it slide closed moments before: the same position, the same clothes, even the same stance. Decker shivered.
Déjàvu.
23
