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“Thank God,” I say.
“I used to live here,” Adam tells Aislin in a chirpy voice.
She pats his arm. “I know, sweetie.”
My mother has her hand on a lever. “You know, Evening,” she says, a gleam in her eye, “this would be an opportunity to … tweak.”
Aislin rubs her palms together. “He’s all hooked up. You could make some minor changes. Right?”
“Psychological,” my mother suggests.
“Physical,” Aislin says. “You know. In the name of science and all.”
“With just a few hours and a few adjustments, you could make him more agreeable,” my mother points out. “Men can be so … uncooperative.”
I shake my head. “Let’s get him out. Now.”
“Last chance,” my mother offers. “You know how picky you can be.”
“Now.”
It takes an hour to get Solo out and detached. He doesn’t wake up until we have him returned to his room. He’s covered in a clear viscous goo from the vat.
I place a blanket over him, just as his quite beautiful eyes flutter open.
“I’m alive,” he observes.
“Yes. You seem to be,” I say.
His eyes go to my mother and they widen in fear. Then he looks away. “Damn.”
“Yes,” my mother says dryly. “I’m still here.”
“Not what I meant,” he says in a subdued voice. “I…”
“You set out to destroy me,” Mom says.
“I didn’t,” he says simply. “I was ready to. I could have.”
I say, “Why didn’t you?”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t just her and me anymore. It was you, too. I could take her down. Not you.”
“Sweet,” my mother says in the voice she uses when she wants to make you hide in a corner.
“Tommy told me about my folks,” Solo says. “I didn’t know all that. I didn’t know what they did, who they were. I thought … well, I thought you were just a ruthless, amoral, manipulative, cold bitch.”
Mom nods. “Yes. All that’s true.”
“Okay, then,” Solo says uncertainly.
Poor Solo. I think he’s half-expecting one of those heartwarming TV moments. Wrong crowd for that.
Solo looks over at Aislin. He smiles.
Then he notices Adam.
“Oh my God.” Solo blinks. “It’s you.”
