stood up and paced. His head spun. Goodwin, spinning his giddy justifications, had been hooked by the irresistible lure of near immortality
"Ben, you're what, thirty-five, thirty-six? You imagine you will live forever. I know I did at your age. But I want you to imagine being eighty five ninety, God willing you live so long. You have a family, you have children and grandchildren. You've had a happy life, your work is meaningful, and although you have all the normal afflictions of old age "
"I'll want to die," Ben said curtly.
"Correct. If you're in the condition of most people at that age. But you don't ever have to be ninety. If you begin this therapy now, you'll always be in your prime, in your mid-thirties God, what I'd give to be your age! Please don't tell me you have some ethical objection to it."
"I'm not sure what to think at this point," Ben said, watching Godwin closely.
Godwin seemed to believe him.
"Good. You're being open-minded. I want you to join us. Join the Wiedergeborenen."
Ben sank his head into his arms. "It's certainly a tempting offer." His voice was muffled. "You make some very good points "
"Are you still here, John?" interrupted Lenz's voice, loud and enthusiastic. "The last helicopter's about to leave!"
Godwin rose swiftly. "I need to catch the shuttle," he apologized. "I want you to think about what we discussed."
Lenz entered with his arm around a stoop-shouldered old man.
Jakob Sonnenfeld.
"Did you have a good talk?" Lenz inquired.
No. Not him, too. "You " Ben blurted out to the old Nazi hunter, revolted.
"I think we may have a new recruit," Godwin said somberly, and gave Lenz a brief but significant look.
Ben turned to face Sonnenfeld. "They knew where I was going in Buenos Aires because of you, isn't that right?"
Sonnenfeld looked pained. He averted his eyes. "There are times in life when one must choose sides," he said. "When my treatment begins "
"Come, gentlemen," Lenz interrupted again. "We must hurry."
Ben could hear the roar of a helicopter outside, as Godwin and Sonnenfeld moved toward the exit.
"Benjamin," Lenz said without turning around. "Please stay right there. I'm so glad to hear you may be interested in our project. So now you and I must have a little talk."
Ben felt something slam him from behind, and steel clamped against his wrist.
Handcuffs.
There was no way out.
The guards dragged him through the great hall, past the exercise equipment and the medical monitoring stations.
He screamed at the top of his lungs and let himself go limp. If any of the Wiedergeborenen remained, they'd see him being abducted, and surely they'd object. These were not evil people.
But none of them remained, at least no one he could see.
A third guard took his upper arm and joined the others. His legs and knees slid painfully against the stone floor, the abrasions excruciating. He kicked and struggled. A fourth arrived, and now they were able to hold Ben by each limb, though he torqued himself back and forth to make it as difficult for them as possible, and he kept shouting.
They trundled him into an elevator. A guard pressed the second-floor button. In seconds the elevator opened on to a stark white corridor. As the guards carried him out-he'd ceased resisting; what was the point?- a passing nurse gaped at him, then looked away quickly.
They brought him into what looked like a modified operating room and hoisted him onto a bed. An orderly who appeared to have been expecting him-had the guards radioed ahead?-fastened colored restraints to his ankles and wrists, and then, once he was secured to the table, removed the handcuffs.
Exhausted, he lay flat, his limbs immobile. All of the guards but one filed out of the room, their work done. The remaining guard stood watch by the closed door, an Uzi across his chest.
The door opened, and Jorgen Lenz entered. "I admire your cleverness," he said. "I'd been assured that the old cave was sealed or at least impassable, so I thank you for pointing out the security risk. I've already ordered the entrance dynamited."
Ben wondered: Did Godwin really invite him to join them? Or was his old mentor simply trying to neutralize him? Lenz was far too suspicious to trust him anyway.
Or was he?
"Godwin asked me to join the project," Ben said.
Lenz wheeled a metal cart over next to the bed and busied himself with a hypodermic needle.
"Godwin trusts you' Lenz said, turning around. "I myself do not."
Ben watched his face. "Trusts me about what?"
"About respecting