dollars to gamble away, but you won’t spring for a genuine dress for her to wear while she’s doing it?’
‘This is a mission, not a fashion show. Anyway, I doubt anyone’ll be looking too closely at the quality of the stitching.’
Holly Jo shook her head. ‘The women will be,’ she chided, before taking the shoebox from him. ‘Louboutins!’ she squealed, seeing the red soles inside. Then her excitement abruptly faded. ‘Oh. Let me guess, more knock-offs?’ Tony shrugged helplessly. ‘You are so cheap.’
‘Hey, you try justifying a pair of thousand-dollar shoes to Harper.’
‘Just give me the chance and I will!’
Bianca took the box from Holly Jo. ‘High heels aren’t really my thing,’ she said, examining the vertiginous court shoes.
‘High heels are everyone’s thing,’ Holly Jo insisted, turning a foot to show off her own. ‘You just haven’t found the right ones.’
‘Anyway, foot fetishism aside,’ said Tony, putting the dress on the bed, ‘it’s time. Adam’s waiting in the other bedroom.’
‘Okay,’ Bianca said, hesitant. She knew what she was supposed to do; Kiddrick’s tutorials had been thorough, whatever she thought of him personally. But the original plan for her to practise using one of the recorded personalities at STS had been abandoned in the rush to reach Zykov. This would be her first time imprinting Adam for real. ‘Well . . . let’s give it a try.’
She went with Tony through the suite’s main room, where Kyle was stretched out on a sofa watching TV. Behind him, at a table, Billy Kerschner was working on a piece of equipment through an illuminated magnifier. Also in the room was a stocky Chinese man called Lau, whom Tony had introduced as one of the CIA’s local contacts. She nodded to them as she passed, then entered the other bedroom.
The PERSONA device and its recording unit had been set up on a desk. Adam sat beside it, staring at the window. He looked round as Tony and Bianca came in. ‘Are we ready?’
‘Yes,’ Tony told him. ‘Okay, Bianca. Trial by fire.’
‘I wish you’d found a less scary way to say that,’ she complained as she took the skullcap from the case. ‘Right, let’s see if I remember how to put this on . . .’
‘The open part goes at the front,’ Tony joked.
She shot a sarcastic smile over her shoulder, then turned back to Adam. As she gently tugged the cap into place and positioned the clusters of electrodes, she realised he was watching her expression, his eyes tracking hers. But there was no sense that he was doing so out of any desire to form an emotional connection; it seemed purely analytical. Data-gathering.
She secured the strap under his chin. ‘Okay, that’s done. I hope.’
The disk had already been inserted into the recorder; she opened the screen on the main unit and started it up. It ran through its initial self-tests, informing her that it was ready for use.
She took the gas injector from the medical case. A quick glance at Tony, who gave her a look of reassurance, then she leaned over Adam. ‘Are you ready?’ A brief flick of his eyes sufficed as affirmation. ‘Okay. Here we go . . .’
She pressed the injector to his neck and pulled the trigger.
Adam drew in a sharp breath through his nostrils. Bianca couldn’t help but cringe at having caused his discomfort, but nevertheless began to count off the passing seconds. Ten, twenty. Any faint vestiges of expression that had been on his face evaporated away.
Thirty seconds. ‘Adam? Are you all right?’
His gaze locked on to hers, clear and blank. ‘Yes.’
‘Good, okay. Well. This is it, then.’
She turned to the PERSONA and entered a command.
The screen came to life as the transfer began. Adam jerked as if he had received an electric shock. Bianca knew what to expect this time, but was still worried. Despite Tony’s assurances, which she now knew were from first-hand experience, the process still looked painful. His fists were balled tight, tendons straining.
Nothing to do now but wait for the machine to do its work. She pulled up a chair, eyes on her patient as he took in the memories and experiences of another man. Was it more than just data? Had something of the other subject’s ‘soul’ actually been copied? She didn’t know, and wasn’t sure if the philosophical implications of the answer were something she wanted to know.
Tony stood beside her. ‘It’s going fine,’ he said. ‘You’re doing fine.’
‘Thanks.’ But she was still filled with concern.
Minutes passed. Then the