Free Six by M.M. Vaughan Page A

bike?”
    Michael looked embarrassed. “I already said: it’s not from me.”
    Parker shook his head, not knowing what to make of the situation, just as Emma found the tag hanging from the handlebars. Parker watched as she turned it over, then, upon reading what was written on it, let out a small laugh.
    Parker walked over, leaving Michael standing by the cart, and looked at the tag that Emma was now holding out for him to read.
    To Emma, from Gary the Goat.
    Parker read it again to check that he had read it correctly. He looked over at Michael. “ Seriously? Gary?”
    â€œThat’s a very popular goat name in Africa,” said Michael, shrugging. “Is it okay?” he asked Emma.
    Emma considered her answer for a moment and Parker winced. He knew exactly what Emma was going to say—she was going to tell Michael to take it back. He was just wondering whether this was going to make the rest of the day awkward when, to both Parker’s and Michael’s surprise, she broke out into a run and threw her arms around Michael. Michael stood stiffly, his arms by his sides, until she let go.
    â€œI love it,” she signed.
    â€œIt’s no big deal,” mumbled Michael. He turned and lifted his bike off the rack, then looked at Emma and Parker. “Shall we go?” he asked. He pedaled off and disappeared up the ramp before Parker or Emma could answer.
    Parker was still shaking his head in disbelief as he picked up his own bike. He pressed down on his wrist.
    Think of how many goats that bike’s worth, said Parker.
    Oh, lighten up, Parker, said Emma as she cycled past him with a wide grin on her face.

CHAPTER SEVEN
45:10
    At two o’clock that afternoon, at the precise moment that Parker and Emma encountered a tree house larger than most people’s homes, Parker’s father, Dr. Geoffrey Banks, was preparing for possibly the most important moment in his career. Whether it would be his greatest moment, or his worst, was still very much of an unknown. Dr. Banks wiped the sweat from his brow. If successful, he and, more important, his children, would be rewarded with the greatest gift imaginable. If it failed, he would almost certainly lose his job. Or worse.
    â€œThey’re waiting, Dr. Banks.”
    Dr. Banks looked up and saw Lina standing at the door of his office. The expression on her face was easy to read.
    â€œYou have nothing to be scared about, Lina; they’re not going to blame you. I’ll make sure of it,” he said, standing up.
    â€œI’m not worried about myself,” she replied in a quiet voice.
    â€œIt could work—have you considered that?” said Dr. Banks with more confidence than he felt. “In three weeks we’ve got it up to a seventy percent success rate. Chances are, it will work.”
    â€œAnd if it doesn’t?”
    Dr. Banks didn’t answer. Instead he took a deep breath, did the top button of his lab coat, and stood up straight. He forced a smile onto his face.
    â€œRight, Miss Chan, let’s get this over and done with. Lead the way to my execution.”
    It was supposed to be a joke, but Lina didn’t laugh.
    *  *  *  *  *  *
    Bowveld was waiting in the corridor by the doors of Laboratory One. He also wore a white lab coat, which, in case anybody should need reminding, had his name and title embroidered across the upper left: Dr. Warren Bowveld III, Director . Everything about him, from his helmet of dyed black hair to his snakeskin loafers and oversize gold watch, suggested a man determined to impress his power upon the world.
    Dr. Banks turned to Lina. “You go ahead,” he said in a low voice. “Double-check everything.”
    Lina nodded and walked quickly past the director with her head held down. The director acknowledged her only by stepping aside to let her through. He waited until the doors had closed behind her before speaking.
    â€œAre you