George’s face contorts into a disturbed grimace, but he says nothing.
Thorn says slowly, “It was me, my project. These Reds,” he murmurs, gesturing to the Reds, now nuzzling his hair.
“Your project? With those … those birds?” Is George’s memory that bad? I distinctly recall talking to him at The Greening before he flew off and confronting him about Thorn not winning. Or is he willing himself to forget?
“They’re not birds,” I remind him. “They’re half Fireseed and half human, as I told you before you left The Greening on finalist pick day. And I said that they deserved to win your contest, hands down.” I pause for this to sink in. “Clearly NanoPearl wanted that concept without paying for it.”
The spark of recognition in George’s eye suggests that maybe he doesn’t think too highly of NanoPearl either; that he may have had his own run-ins with them. Though he snaps, “You’re making some major accusations here. What gives you the right?”
Blane reaches in his latchbag and presents the device he surgically removed from Thorn’s neck. “Ever seen this type of Nanotech?”
George rotates it gingerly between thumb and index finger. Taking a napkin from his desk he places the implant on it as if he’s afraid it may contaminate him. “Can’t say I have. This does have the NanoPearl logo on it but anyone could have implanted this. What exact proof is there that Stazzi from NanoPearl stole your, uh, concept?”
Blane holds up a wing section from the monstrous NanoPearl Red he managed to break off at the warehouse. “As you may recall, I’m an expert at decoding genomes, and this sample from NanoPearl will prove, when decoded, that their formula for this hybrid chimera is a blatant and direct thievery of this young man’s invention.”
George rubs his forehead as if this news has just given him a horrendous, throbbing headache, which I’m sure it has, metaphorically if not physically. “M-my word!” he stammers.
“In addition to the illegal actions of NanoPearl and Stazzi,” Blane says, “A Greening student named Jan should also be arrested for accepting a payoff from Stazzi to put young Thorn in harm’s way.”
“Yeah, and a student named Vesper, for being an accomplice,” I add.
With this, George begins jotting down info on his holo tablet. “I’ll look into these matters.”
“Right away, please,” says Armonk. “These students are tied up and under watch at our school, but we’ll need immediate help removing them before they cause further harm. They are quite dangerous.”
I stare at George. “By the way how did you decide on which judges to use? Did they give you perks or what? Because we all remember the little, um, last minute disagreement with Stazzi over the Axiom prize. I mean, you’re a governor of the sector, and as such, you’re not supposed to favor one corporation over another, right?” My brother is furiously shaking his head at me.
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” George retorts. He scowls at me and then at Blane. “May I ask, how you happened to get a piece of the NanoPearl hybrid?”
It’s my turn to flush from nerves. My brother isn’t just shaking his head at me; he’s pinching me. I went too far by suggesting that George let Stazzi and NanoPearl buy him off. The chain could totally crack if we unspool all of it now. I suppose everyone has his or her price. It’s a matter of degree.
We need to catch the most poisonous lizard first. I smile. “Let’s just say that we had unexpected and unprecedented access.”
“We have our ways,” says Blane, pointedly flexing his muscles. “There are many underhanded things happening at that, um, NanoPearl warehouse,” Blane shakes his head, “that the head of a big sector like yours would not want to be associated with in any way.”
“Well, no, I have a good name,” he mumbles. “My family’s been here for generations.”
Armonk nods at George. “And I’m sure you’d like to keep it that way. A scandal would do you no good. Ruin your chances of reelection.”
With this, another spark of understanding gleams in George’s eyes. He snorts. “Stazzi can be a bit overbearing.” So, it wasn’t my imagination that he was rolling his eyes at Stazzi during that ballroom dispute. By the sound of his snort, he’d love nothing more than to slap a pair of handcuffs on her if he has ample reason. “I’ll get on these claims immediately.” He pauses to really look at each of us, one by one, as if he’s seeing us for the very first time. “I’m so sorry you experienced these difficulties. Is there anything else?”