SeventeenWell before dawn on Saturday, a ringing next to his ears shattered Machuzak’s dreams. Bedbug. “Doc, we’re going to be a little late. I’ll call ya later,” she said and abruptly hung up. He’d intended to rendezvous with T. J. and Slava on his return from Dallas, where he was to meet Moravec. Puzzled, unable to return to sleep, he roused himself, headed to the lab, watched Hasschler and Kettering nearly come to blows at the ignition meeting, cursed, received the first resignations on his desk, cursed again and departed for the airport.
Garrett had put his private jet at his disposal and two hours after he’d left CFRC, Nathaniel entered the domain of Moravec, GlobeTex’s CEO. After the call five days ago he did not know what to expect—male, female or otherwise. Stepping into the huge
