Gaddis offered no rebuttal. He said nothing at all, but Con could see him digging in his heels. She knew the look intimately from growing up with her mother—it was when facts stopped mattering. When the truth became inconvenient, either contradicting her beliefs or becoming an obstacle to what she wanted. Con didn’t know what was happening inside Vernon Gaddis’s head, but either way, she saw there was no changing his mind.
That didn’t deter Aldous from trying. “But if our candidate wins in November, there are two judges in their late seventies. We have a chance to flip the court our way in the next eight years.”
“I don’t have eight years!” Gaddis snapped.
“I know,” Aldous agreed. “It’s not fair, but we have to be patient. Pick our spot. You know this.”
“Of course he does. It was his plan, after all,” the first man said.
Over the next hour, the three men tried every approach they could think of to convince Gaddis. Nothing worked, although by the end, Con would have sided with them had anyone asked her opinion. No one did. She felt like an uninvited guest at a family squabble. Never once did the three men acknowledge her presence. But neither had Gaddis bothered to introduce her, even though he claimed this concerned her. From the conversation, she had guessed that they were all clones, but apparently, Con was the wrong kind of clone. She might as well have been invisible. There was a lesson to be learned from that. Gaddis would let her listen silently, but it took a billion dollars to have a voice. She’d be wise to remember that.
When the three men finally saw there was no talking to Gaddis, they prepared to leave. Their anger had burned off, replaced by a muted sense of disillusionment. Aldous, the undisputed leader, turned back to Gaddis as he buttoned his sports coat.
“You know I’m not one to make idle threats, but if you go through with this, you understand that there will be consequences. You’ll leave me no alternative.”
“I understand,” Gaddis said. “I won’t hold it against you.”
“Let’s talk again soon. I’d hate for you to make an enemy of me.”
“I’d like that,” Gaddis said, standing to shake each of their hands as though the matter was settled. Con found the whole charade bizarre and didn’t get how rich people fought at all. When they were alone again, Gaddis slumped back in his chair and stared out at the bay for a long time. It seemed to be his favorite pose.
“They’re not wrong,” he said finally. “I will likely lose the case.”
“What case?” Con said, adopting a commiserating tone. It was better than the frustration she was actually feeling.
“Right,” Gaddis said. “I sometimes forget it’s not the center of everyone’s world. It’s really quite simple when you get down to it. When our plane crashed, Cynthia and I were returning from Paris. It was our wedding anniversary, and Paris was her favorite city on earth. The tragic part of the story is that after our trip, she’d been scheduled to travel to speak at a conference in Barcelona. I’d been meant to return home alone, but a terrorist attack in Spain forced the conference to be rescheduled at the last moment. She flew home with me instead. Otherwise, she’d be alive today. Just one of those random occurrences with unforeseeable consequences.” Gaddis paused there, aware that he’d stumbled into more personal territory than he’d intended to share. “Anyway. When we traveled, we often left the children with her brother’s family in Virginia. They are the children’s godparents, and their children are close in age to ours. We saw each other regularly, and the kids were all thick as thieves. After I was revived by Palingenesis, I sent word for my children to be brought home. I was informed via my brother-in-law’s attorney that my children would remain with them in Virginia.”
“Why?”
“Because as far as Cynthia’s family is concerned, Vernon Gaddis died in the plane crash alongside his wife. They do not acknowledge my existence. I lost my wife. I have not seen or communicated in any way with my children. Now I am on the verge of losing them permanently along with my fortune and everything that I have built.”
“Wow,” Con said, understanding now his dilemma.
“Virginia’s clone laws are unequivocal on this subject. As is Cynthia’s brother. As the godparent, he has claimed custody of my three children. Furthermore, he sued in Virginia court to have the will read, which states that in the event of Cynthia’s and my deaths, our estate is to be placed in trust for the children. To be administered by my brother-in-law, because evidently I am a jackass.”