“You’d think,” said Volescu, “that someone who used to be small would know better than to be a bully.”

“We all used to be small,” said Petra. “Let go of his neck, Bean.”

“Let me crush his larynx just a little.”

“He’s too confident,” said Petra. “He’s very sure we’ll never find them.”

“So many babies,” said Volescu genially. “So little time.”

“He’s counting on us not torturing him,” said Bean.

“Or maybe he wants us to,” said Petra. “Who knows how his brain works? The only difference between Volescu and Achilles is the size of their ambitions. Volescu’s dreams are so very, very small.”

Volescu’s eyes were welling up with tears. “I still think of you as my only son,” he said to Bean. “It grieves me that we don’t communicate any better than this.”

Bean’s thumb massaged the skin of Volescu’s throat in circles around the point of his larynx.

“It surprises me that you can always find a place to do your sick little brand of science,” said Petra. “But this lab is closed now. The Rwandan government will have its scientists go over it to find out what you were doing.”

“Always I do the work while others get the credit,” said Volescu.

“Do you see how I nearly encircle his throat with just one hand?” said Bean.

“Let’s take him back to Ribeirão Preto, Julian.”

“That would be nice,” said Volescu. “How are my sister and her husband doing? Or do you see them anymore, now that you’ve got to be so important?”

“He’s talking about my family,” said Bean, “as if he were not the monster who cloned my brother illegally and then murdered all but one of the clones.”

“They’ve gone back to Greece,” said Petra. “Please don’t kill him, Bean. Please.”

“Remind me why.”

“Because we’re good people,” said Petra.

Volescu laughed. “You live by murder. How many people have you both killed? And if we add in all the Buggers you slaughtered out in space….”

“All right,” said Petra. “Go ahead and kill him.”

Bean tightened his fingers. Not that much, really. But Volescu made a strangled sound in his throat and in moments his eyes were bugging out.

At that moment Suriyawong entered the lab. “General Delphiki, sir,” he said.

“Just a minute, Suri,” said Petra. “He’s killing somebody.”

“Sir,” said Suriyawong. “This is a war materials lab.”

Bean relaxed his grip. “Still genetic research?”

“Several of the other scientists working here had misgivings about Volescu’s work and the sources of his grants. They were collecting evidence. Not much to collect. But everything points to Volescu breeding a common-cold virus that would carry genetic alterations.”

“That wouldn’t affect adults,” said Bean.

“I shouldn’t have said war materials,” said Suriyawong, “but I thought that would stop your little game of strangulation faster.”

“What is it, then?” asked Bean.

“It’s a project to alter the human genome,” said Suriyawong.

“We know that’s what he worked with,” said Petra.

“But not with viruses as carriers,” said Bean. “What were you doing here, Volescu?”