The Rise and Fall of Khan Noonien Singh, Volume One by Greg Cox Read Free Book Online Page A

her twenties. Roberta remembered attending her funeral, and thinking what a waste it was that such a bright and talented person hadn’t lived to fulfill her full potential, all because of a genetic accident that occurred before she was even born. If gene therapy could have cured Tina’s MD, Roberta thought, or maybe even fixed the problem in her parents’ genes before she was ever conceived, then maybe conscientious chromosome-splicing isn’t as bad as Seven makes it out to be?
    But now was no time for hesitation or indecision, she realized; if she wanted to reach the people behind the big project Seven feared was in the works, then she needed to place herself firmly and publicly on the side of bigger and better DNA.
    She waited for the applause to subside. Then, as soon as the F.P. asked for questions from the audience, her hand shot up faster than a Saturn V rocket.
    Her quick reflexes (and snappy fashion sense) must have done the trick. “Yes?” the F.P. prompted, calling on her. “What is your question, please?”
    [36] Roberta stood up in the first row of the auditorium, feeling the collective gaze of the entire assembly turn upon her. Good thing I’m not prone to stage fright, she thought as she cleared her throat. Well, here goes nothing.
    “So far all you’ve proposed is fixing preexisting defects in the genetic makeup of a few individuals whose DNA isn’t quite up to code. What about making overall improvements in the ordinary human genome? Increasing life expectancy, for example, or intelligence?” She raised her voice, trying to sound inspired and enthusiastic. “Why settle for curing a handful of inherited disorders when you can use genetic engineering to create a better and more advanced form of human being?”
    Her remarks didn’t exactly elicit gasps—this was a pretty savvy crowd where such notions were concerned—but Roberta thought she detected more and louder murmuring going on all around her, thanks to her bold (and, to be honest, wildly reckless) proposals. So much for making a splash on Day One, she thought, sitting back down in her seat. Here’s hoping somebody takes the bait.
     
    She didn’t have long to wait.
    Roberta first noticed she was being followed later that morning, while strolling through the Eternal City in search of lunch. After her successful infiltration of the conference, she’d figured she was entitled to a break and a little of the local cuisine. Why save the world if you can’t stop and smell the pizza once in a while?
    The two men—one Asian, one Latino—started shadowing her shortly after she left the hotel and had been keeping her in sight ever since. They were being discreet about it, naturally, but years of spy games with Gary Seven had given Roberta very good instincts when it came to being the subject of covert surveillance. You’re good, she silently granted her secret admirers, but I’ve been tailed by the best, including invisible aliens from Devidia II!
    She paused in front of a window display on the Via Sistina, ostensibly to check her reflection in the glass, but actually to take a closer look at the two strangers as they lingered on the sidewalk across the [37] street, apparently engrossed in an Italian newspaper. The front-page headline said something about the Red Brigade and terrorism, but she doubted that the men were actually paying much attention to any news articles at the moment.
    The Asian man looked vaguely familiar; Roberta thought she’d seen him around the conference. He was a slender, handsome man, about her age, wearing a somewhat battered tweed jacket over a Godzilla T-shirt. His long hair and sideburns made him resemble some long-lost Japanese cousin of the Partridge Family. Roberta caught him peeking at her from behind his companion’s newspaper, but pretended not to notice. From his lapse, she guessed that he was new at this, and not a professional spook.
    The other man was a whole different story: he was almost freakishly