The Goldman boardroom's air tasted like Coppertone and betrayal. Leo watched mercury droplets crawl across the conference table—Pale Hand's negotiators had evaporated, leaving only Armani suits and the stench of usury.
Victor's hologram flickered. "Their fund was a gene-editing Ponzi scheme. Signing would've turned you into their... interest-bearing pet."
Leo crushed the quantum drive. "How's the motherlode?"
"Still mining Alaska's ruins. But the rigs are decoding something..." Victor transmitted footage: Excavators uncovered a Soviet-era supercomputer fused with Viking runestones. Its screen flashed: ELAINE WU GENOME SEQUENCE 99.8% RECOVERED.
The Hudson's reflection warped on the glass. Somewhere in the quantum static, Leo heard a familiar laugh—higher-pitched than Irene's, warmer than the dead ought to be.
Genetic Sync: Maternal Memory Resurgence Detected (18%)
He threw the Mercury-laced pen through the window. As glass rained onto Wall Street, the shards formed his mother's face in freefall.
"Compound this," he growled, and stepped into the storm.