5

“Keep to the left there, Vicks. See that doorway? Head for it.”

Jack hovered over Vicky’s shoulder as she navigated the future noir world of DNA Wars. The PlayStation version had come out about six months ago. At nine she was still a bit young and inexperienced to make it through the video game on her own. Jack had fought through to the end where he’d unlocked all the secret codes, including the special gene splices. So he’d entered them for Vicky, allowing her to play in “god mode”—immortal, omnipotent, with the game’s entire array of mDNA templates and weapons at her command.

He slid to the side so he could see her face, watch the images from the big TV screen reflecting in her eyes, revel in her look of fascinated concentration. She was completely into it.

Since Jack’s apartment and Lincoln Center were both on the Upper West Side, and since Jack had the big TV and all the cool video games, Gia had decided it would be easier to drop Vicky here. Her Christmas break had begun, so no school tomorrow.

The black dress Gia had worn was snug around the waist, but she looked dazzling anyway. And who’d notice her swelling belly next to Tom? His dwarfed hers. The rented tux made him look like Opus the penguin on his way to an Overeaters Anonymous banquet.

So Jack and Vicky had parked themselves on the edge of the bed in the TV room—Tom’s bedroom now but not for much longer. The sixty-inch screen stretched the game’s pixels, but made the gameplay intensely immersive.

Before Vicky’s arrival Jack had hidden the Lilitongue and its chest in the hall closet. Couldn’t say why, simply didn’t want Vicky in the same room with it.

Keeping her eyes glued on the screen, Vicky said, “How come Mom’s going out with Tom instead of you?”

“Because I don’t like opera and your mother and Tom do. This way your mother gets to see something she likes and I get not to see something I don’t like.”

“I think he likes Mom.”

Jack had to smile. Amazing what kids pick up on.

“I believe he does.”

… demonstrating uncharacteristic good taste.

“Then why did you let her go with him?”

“I didn’t ‘let’ her. Your mother makes her own decisions. I trust her to make good ones, just as she trusts me. What’s the point of a relationship if one person can’t let the other person out of sight?”

She glanced at Jack. “What if he kisses her?” He won’t.

Not if he knows what’s good for him.

“But what if he does?”

“Then we’ll have to count Mom’s teeth.”

“Huh?”

Jack pointed to the screen. “You stuck?”

She nodded, back in the game. “I can’t fit through this door.”

Jack recognized Vicky’s predicament—he’d been here before.

“Switch to a smaller template.”

She hit the pause button instead.

“I gotta go sprinkle.”

Jack took the controller. “I’ll hold the fort.”

“Don’t play while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try… not to…” Jack said in a strained voice. His hand trembled over the toggles, moving closer, then pulling away. “Won’t… be… easy… better hurry…”

Vicky ran from the room.

Jack smiled. God, he loved that kid.

And soon he’d have his own.

Now there was a frightening thought. A tiny baby, fragile, helpless, totally dependent. He shuddered. Facing a raging, three-hundred-pound, knife-wielding drunk would be less intimidating.