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King shook his head sadly. “Such potential.”
Bruno had to look away. He couldn’t let himself be taunted into a screaming freak-out. That served no purpose. All he could do for himself right now was gather more information. Even if he choked on it.
“One thing you haven’t told me,” he said. “One very important detail. What the fuck do you want with me?”
“Well, I’m afraid you do have to die,” King said, with an apologetic air. “You’re past saving, no chance of reprogramming at your advanced age, and even though you never did find your mother’s evidence, you know too much to run around loose. I was so disappointed about that.”
“About what?”
“That you didn’t find the jewelry box. I wanted to recover it. It annoys me, that there is a information that could be inconvenient for me, floating around out there somewhere. That was one of the reasons I let you live so long. So you could solve that mystery for me, tie up that loose end.” He sighed. “But I’ll just have to let it go.”
Bruno stared at the guy. He wore a noble, martyred look.
“But before I dispose of you, I want input for my next generation of DeepWeave programming. The events of the past week have shown me the limits of my current programming. It’s frustrating, but I must be humble, learn from my mistakes. And you will help me.”
“Humble? You.” Bruno grunted. “Right.”
“Yes, Bruno. It baffles me, that you, in spite of your disadvantages, in spite of your deprived upbringing, completely lacking in intellectual stimulation, in every single encounter, you have come out ahead of my superbly trained operatives. Even your genetic siblings.”
“What if I did? You’ve got me now, right? Aren’t you satisfied?”
“It’s not that,” King said. “Don’t trivialize. My operatives are missing a crucial component that gives you an edge. When I understand what that component is, I’ll synthesize it. It’s just a matter of creating conditions, be they environmental, chemical, what have you. I’m an artist, you see, and I will not rest until my technique is perfect.”
Bruno stared into the guy’s eyes. Bottomless pools of madness. King was looking for a golden egg, and Bruno was the unlucky magic goose laid out on the slab.“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think it’s something you can synthesize. You’re talking about intangibles.”
“Nonsense,” King said. “An intangible is simply a thing that has not been adequately understood. I assume it has to do with human connections, relationships. I’ve already noted that operatives who bond with their podmates are more successful on every level. And I’ve created the conditions for passionate love. My operatives love me to distraction.”
Bruno looked at the blank, slavish hunger in King’s creatures’ eyes. “That’s not love,” he said quietly.
“You think you know what love is?” King laughed. “That’s funny. Love can be a strength or a weakness, depending on how the chips fall. Like Magda. She did superhuman things for you, and her unborn children. But you were her weakness, Bruno. I could have controlled her easily with you, if the Ranieris hadn’t started throwing their weight around. And Lily is your weakness, isn’t that right? Would you be here, facing certain death, if not for her?”
Blood drained out of his head, leaving him dizzy and faint. “Where is she?” he asked. “What have you done to her?”
King patted his cheek again. “I’m afraid you’re in for a shock.”
Part of him wanted to howl with laughter. As if anything could shock him now. The rest of him was frozen in fear, for the one shock he could not face. “Wh-what?” he croaked.
The door opened. A young woman burst into the room. Her excited babble didn’t penetrate. Then he saw the look on King’s face. It suddenly occurred to him that anything that could wipe that smile off that asshole’s face was something he was interested in hearing.
“…at the airport,” she was saying. “She finally turned on her telephone, and they picked her up at the Newark airport, and they’re headed to Gaetano Ranieri’s house, right now! I checked the tags, and Michael Ranieri is there! Do you want me to warn him, to get away?”
King stared into empty space for a moment. “No,” he said.
The young woman exchanged startled glances with the guy who did the computer stuff. “No?” she repeated.
“No. We’re streamlining. My partnership with the Ranieris has ended, as of this moment. I no longer need them. Zoe, my bloodthirsty love—are you up to bringing a turf war to Gaetano Ranieri’s door, while Rosa Ranieri and the McCloud brothers are there?”
Bruno’s guts flopped. The woman’s sunken eyes lit with joy. “You want all of them dead?”
“All,” King purred. “Mow them down. I want carnage. Blood everywhere. But move fast. This is a fleeting opportunity. When you come back…” He gave her a seductive smile. “We will dine together.”
Her face turned an unwholesome blotched red, eyelids twitching. “Yes. Yes, I’m on it.” She scrambled for the door.
Melanie and Hobart turned to King as the door clicked shut behind her, their faces indignant and betrayed.
The young man burst out. “Sir, excuse me for arguing, but are you sure Zoe is right for this assignment? Alone? The McClouds are extremely competent, and I’m not sure that she’s capable of—”
“Trust me, Hobart. I’m streamlining in more ways than one.” He gave his minion a pat on the back. “Zoe’s usefulness has come to an end. That’s why I’m not sending backup. When she fulfills it…” He squeezed the young man’s shoulder, with a conspiratorial smile.
