Mutation

“What is it?” Marsha questioned.

“It’s VJ’s lab,” Victor said as he launched into a brief explanation of the setup, including how VJ had been able to build it without anyone having had the slightest suspicion.

He even told Marsha about VJ’s discovery of the implantation protein, and what that would mean to the infertility field.

“So now you have some idea why VJ hasn’t been as social as you’d like,” concluded Victor. “He’s been here, working his butt off!” Victor chuckled as he let his own eyes roam around the room.

Marsha glanced at VJ, who was eyeing her cautiously, waiting for her reaction, no doubt. There was an enormous piece of equipment in front of her. She had no idea what it was. “Where did all this equipment come from?” she asked.

“That’s the best part,” Victor said. “It all belongs to Chimera.”

“How did it get here?” Marsha asked.

“I guess . . .” Victor began, but then stopped. He looked at VJ. “How did you get this stuff here?”

“A number of people helped,” VJ said vaguely. “Philip did most of the actual moving. Some of the things had to be disassembled, then put together again. We used the old tunnel system.”

“Was Gephardt one of the people that helped?” Victor asked, suddenly suspicious.

“He helped,” VJ admitted.

“Why was someone like Gephardt willing to help you get equipment?” Marsha asked.

“He decided it was the prudent thing to do,” VJ said cryptically. “I’d spent some time with the Chimera computer, and I’d discovered a number of people who’d been embezzling the company. Once I had that information, I merely asked these people for help from their respective departments. Of course, no one knew that the others were involved, or what they were doing. So it all stayed nice and quiet. But the point is, all this equipment belongs to Chimera. Nothing has been stolen. It’s all right here.”

“I’d call it blackmail,” Marsha said.

“I never once threatened anybody,” VJ said. “I merely let them know what I knew, then asked for a favor.”

“I’d say VJ was quite resourceful,” Victor said. “But I’d like to have this list of embezzlers.”

“Sorry,” VJ said. “But I have an understanding with these people. Besides, the worst offender, Dr. Gephardt, was already exposed by the IRS. The ironic thing was that he thought that I’d been behind his exposure.” VJ laughed.

Victor’s face lit up with sudden comprehension. “I get it,” he said. “Gephardt was directing the messages at you when he tossed the brick and killed poor Kissa.”

VJ nodded. “The fool,” he said.

“I want to get out of here!” Marsha said suddenly, surprising both Victor and VJ.

“But there’s more to see,” Victor said.

“I’m sure there is,” Marsha said. “But for the moment I’ve seen enough. I want to leave.” She looked from father to son, then glanced around the room. She felt distinctly uncomfortable. The place scared her.

“There are living quarters . . .” Victor said, pointing toward the west end of the room.

Marsha ignored his gesture. She walked back to the stairs and started up.

“I told you we shouldn’t have told her,” VJ whispered.

Victor put a hand on his shoulder and whispered back,

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” Then to Marsha he called, “Just a second, I’ll come along.”

Marsha went directly up to the trapdoor and pushed. Once out of the basement, she stumbled blindly across the wide expanse of rubble-filled floor space. When she reached the door and the fresh air, she felt a flood of relief.

“Marsha, for goodness sake,” said Victor, catching up with her and turning her around. “Where are you going?”

“Home!” She walked on with determination. But Victor caught up to her again.

“Why are you acting this way?” Victor asked.

Marsha didn’t answer. Instead she increased her pace. They were practically running. When they got to Victor’s car, she opened her door and got in.

Victor got in on his side. “You won’t talk to me?” he questioned with some irritation.

Setting her jaw, Marsha stared ahead. They drove home in strained silence.

Once they were home, Marsha poured herself a glass of white wine.

“Marsha,” Victor began, breaking the veil of silence, “why are you acting like this? I thought you’d be as thrilled as I am, especially after all your worry about whether VJ’s intelligence would drop again. Obviously the boy’s just fine.

He’s as bright as ever.”

“That’s just the point,” Marsha said sharply. “VJ’s intelligence is fine, and it terrifies me. By the looks of that lab, he must still be in the genius range, wouldn’t you say?”

“Clearly,” said Victor. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

“No,” Marsha snapped. She put her wineglass on the table.

“If he is still a genius, then the whole episode of his intelligence drop had to be a charade. He’s been pretending all this time. He’s been smart enough to outwit my psychological tests, except for that validity scale. Victor, his whole life with us is a sham. Just one big lie.”

“Maybe there’s another explanation,” Victor said. “Maybe his intelligence dropped, then rebounded.”