in Dr. Chambord's research? Of course they were. Intensely interested, in fact. Emile introduced Dr. Zellerbach to me during my last visit to his lab. Naturally, Emile would not allow any of us to just drop by. He was a dedicated and busy man, so an invitation was a grand event. That was two months ago or so, and your Dr. Zellerbach had just arrived. It's a pity about Emile's work being destroyed in that wretched bombing. Do you think any of it survived?"
"I have no personal knowledge, General. Sorry." Two could play the fishing game. "I suppose I'm surprised you'd involve yourself personally. After all, you've got a great many important responsibilities at NATO."
"I'm still French, no? Besides, I knew Emile personally for many years."
"And was he close to success?" Smith asked, careful to keep his voice neutral. "A practical, working DNA computer?"
La Porte tented his fingers. "That's the question, isn't it?"
"It could be the key to who planted the bomb and why. No matter what happens to Marty, I want to do what I can to help catch the bastard who injured him."
"A true friend." La Porte nodded. "Yes, I'd like the miscreant punished, too. But, alas, I can be of little help to you there. Emile was close-mouthed about his work. If he had made ahow do you Americans say it?'breakout,' he didn't inform me. Nor did Dr. Zellerbach or poor Jean-Luc Massenet tell me or anyone else, as far as we know."
"The research assistant? That was terrible. Have the police formed an opinion of why he killed himself?"
"A tragedy, too, to have lost that young man. Apparently, he was devoted to Emile, and when Emile died, he was cast adrift. He could not face life alone. At least that's what I've been told. Knowing the charismatic power of Emile's personality, I can almost understand the lad's suicide."
"So what's your take on the bombing, General?"
La Porte gave the Gallic gesture of confusiona shrug with hands spread and head tilted. "Who knows what raving lunatic would do such a thing? Or perhaps it was some perfectly sane man with some personal hatred of science, or of L'Institut Pasteur, or even of France, to whom the bombing of a crowded building seemed a thoroughly reasonable response." La Porte shook his large head, disgusted. "There are times, Colonel, when I think the patina of civilization and culture we all profess to share is cracking. We return to the barbarians."
"The French police and Secret Service know no more than that?"
La Porte repeated his mannerism of tenting his long fingers. His unblinking blue eyes regarded Smith as if they could dissect his thoughts. "The police and the Second Bureau do not confide everything to a mere general, especially one who is, as you pointed out, on duty at NATO. However, my aide, Captain Bonnard, heard rumors that our police have evidence that the attack on the Pasteur could've been the work of an obscure Basque separatist group thought wiped out years ago. As a rule, the Basques confine their 'events' to Spain, but I'm sure you know there are many Basque people who live in three small regions of Basse-Pyrenees on the Spanish border with France. It was probably inevitable something would spill over across the border, even to Paris, sooner or later."
"Which group, do you think?"
"I believe they were called the Black Flame." He picked up what appeared to be a TV remote control, pressed a button, and Captain Bonnard stepped into the grand room through a side door. "Darius, would you be so kind as to prepare a copy of the file the Sreteacute; sent over about the bombing for Colonel Smith?"
"It will be waiting for him whenever he leaves, mon geacute;neacute;ral."
"Thank you, Darius. What would I do without you, eh?"
Saluting, but smiling, the aide left the gilded room. General La Porte picked up the coffeepot. "Now, a second cup, Colonel, and tell me more about your friend. He is, I'm told, a genius, but with some sort of unfortunate affliction."
The general refilled their cups while Smith described Marty's history. "Asperger's Syndrome makes it difficult for him to function in our world. He tends to avoid people, is terrified of strangers, and lives alone in D.C. Still, he's an electronic genius. When he's off his medication and in his manic state, he has insights and leaps of creativity that are dazzling. But if he stays off the meds too long, he borders on incoherence, and eventually he simply starts raving.