Read Online F Paul Wilson - Sims 04 by Zero (v5.0) - Free Book Online

his bloodstream? What if saying a vital word was what triggered the—what was
it?”
                 “Aphasia,”
Zero said, then shook his head. “That sounds even more farfetched.”
                 “Maybe. But what was he saying at the very instant something
tripped the circuit breaker in his brain?”
                 “I
don’t remember,” Romy said, “but it’s easy enough to
find out.”
                 She
went to a shelf on the wall and retrieved the recorder. She reversed it for a
second, then hit PLAY . Romy’s voice burst from the tiny speaker.
                 “—op stalling! Tell me now: Who do you work for?” was
followed by Parker’s hoarse rasp: “SIRG—” and then strangled noises and cries
of alarm.
                 Romy switched off the player. She looked pale. “Want to
hear it again?”
                 “That’s
okay. You heard the word: ‘Surge,’ right?”
                 Zero
shrugged. “I doubt he was talking about a fabric or an electric current. I
believe he got out the first syllable of the answer—‘s-u-r’ or
‘s -e-r’ or ‘c-e-r’ or maybe even ‘c- i -r’ for
circle—and then the seizure hit and the rest of the word or words were crushed
into a guttural mess.”
                 “But
this was in direct response to ‘Who do you work for?’ so it’s got to have some
relevance, don’t you think? I mean, at least it’s a start. Question is, how to find out if it means anything?”
                 “Why
don’t we simply ask?” Romy said.
                 “Oh, sure. I’ll just call up Mercer Sinclair and say, ‘What
does the word “surge” mean to you?’ That’ll work.”
                 A
smile played about Romy’s lips, the first since last
night. “Why call when you can ask in person?”

           8
     
                 NEWARK , NJ
                 Meerm feel ver bad today. So fat belly. Legs swoll . Hard move. Many move inside, like thing kicking. Kick-kick-kick. And dizz . Ver dizz .
                 Oop . Meerm trip, fall against bunk. Make noise. Loud. Must hide. Benny come .
                 Climb
top closet. So hard climb. More hard squeeze into hole. But Meerm push hard. Push back board and wait in dark. Soon Benny come .
Talk self. Always talk self.
                 “Who’s
up here? Goddamn it, I heard you. I been hearing you
all week! Now come out!”
                 Benny
come closet. Pull door. Meerm not breathe. Hear Benny
voice through wall. Shout-shout-shout.
                 “Where
are you, dammit ! You gotta be somewhere! Or maybe
I just gone loco! No! I know what I heard, dammit !”
                 Benny
leave closet. Many loud noise in room—dresser move, bunk
move, door slam-slam-slam. Then noise stop.
                 “All
right so maybe I am hearing things. Next I’ll be seeing things. That’s it. I’m losing
it. I been babysitting these monkeys so long I’m going bugfuck nuts! But I coulda sworn…”
                 Benny
go way but Meerm stay. Too tired. Too scare to move. And hurt. Kick and hurt all time. Poor Meerm . When hurt stop?

           9
     
                 MANHATTAN
                 DECEMBER
19
                 Romy was late for the meeting. On
purpose.
                 For
the past few years she’d made a point of keeping a few shares of SimGen stock in her 401(k) for the sole purpose of being
invited to shareholders’ meetings. She’d been to a number of these and knew how
they went—blather and hype from beginning to end. The only interesting part was
the finale when Mercer Sinclair took questions from the audience.
                 By
the time she reached the upper floors of the Waldorf Astoria she already knew
from the ecstatic talk in the