That satisfied Dennis, and he gave her another smile. “Cool.”
They parted ways later, and Tessa walked back to the house with her mind full of questions. She hoped Justin wouldn’t be too late tonight, because she wanted to dissect what she’d seen at the church. He was as hip-deep in Gemman rhetoric as anyone else around here, but he was probably the only person who might be able to understand her observations.
He actually came home early for a change, shortly after dinner. “No travel,” he explained. “Just some local licenses. Only two more big trips left, and then hell if I know what’s going to happen.” That last part was more to himself, and Tessa was afraid to ask him to elaborate. She knew he was working on something a lot bigger than standard servitor work, something that he and Mae often spoke about in hushed tones. Whatever it was, it kept him away a lot, and although Tessa understood that was his job, she missed talking the way they used to.
He wandered off toward the study he’d claimed as his office, and she deliberated over whether to bother him about her church day or not. Finally, deciding he couldn’t complain about her exploring the society he’d brought her to, she followed. She heard voices when she reached his door and started to turn back, realizing he was on a call. Her curiosity was piqued when she recognized one of the voices as Dominic’s, and going against all her good breeding, she hovered just behind the ajar door and peered in.
Sure enough, Dominic’s face was displayed on Justin’s wall screen, looking irritated. “Leo’s in his workroom. I’ve got to take my portobello casserole out of the oven first, then I’ll get him. It dries out if it’s left in there for more than seventeen minutes.”
Justin groaned once Dominic disappeared and muttered to himself, “Man, he sucks.”
Leo appeared soon thereafter. “Here for your results?”
“You got the reports?”
“Yup.” Leo’s face broke out into a grin. “Looks like you owe Mae a drink. The victims all match. They were done by the same person, but she wasn’t. She doesn’t have the same signature.”
It was a rare moment of astonishment for Justin. “What does that mean? It’s not possible. She’s a nine from the right time period.”
“It means you were wrong. I know it must be a new experience for you. If it makes you feel better, I think there was a little gene manipulation going on with her.”
“How so?” Justin still looked dumbfounded.
“Her genes are outstanding,” Leo told her. “Too nice to be natural, in my opinion. They’re just not as nice as the victims’. Those are like…art.”
“So she has no connection to the case,” said Justin flatly.
“Not from what I can tell. Don’t sound so sad. She’s still a badass pr?torian and all that.”
“I know.” Justin smiled fleetingly. “Did I ever tell you about this Apollo temple we were at? You would’ve loved it. This guy had subcutaneous microfilaments delivering ecstatic drugs. You should have seen his face when I sent Mae as a volunteer. She didn’t even twitch.”
Even Leo was amused at that. “She must’ve twitched a little.”
“No, the implant protected her.”
“Yeah, but it’d take a moment for it to identify and metabolize the drug.”
Justin was obstinate. “Well, I know what I saw.”
“And I know pr?torians.”
“Well, do you know anything yet about mysteriously altered videos?” Justin shot back, not liking the contradiction.
Leo’s good mood dimmed. “No. But I got a good lead on an experiment for the video. I’ll keep you posted.” He disconnected.
Justin stared at the screen in silence for several moments before saying, “You can come in.”
Feeling foolish, Tessa entered the office. “Sorry. I was coming to talk to you.”
He waved it off as he sat in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. “Tell me this, prodigy. Six patricians born within a year of each other, all with high scores, all showing signs of genetic manipulation done by the same person—except one. Why would that be?”
Tessa leaned against the wall. “Because the sixth one wasn’t done by the same person.”
Justin didn’t look appreciative. “Thanks for that. So it’s a coincidence?”
“I don’t know enough about it,” she said with a shrug. “Do numbers lie?”
“Not when Leo runs them.”
“Then it is a coincidence.”
He nodded, though his face still showed skepticism. “How about this. A bunch of plebeians die the same year some perfect patricians are conceived. Is that a coincidence?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know any of the context here either. Is this your case?”
“Yes. And don’t tell anyone we’re having this conversation.”