17

Spencer studied the two men seated on the other side of his wide mahogany desk. On the right sat Wesker, wearing his mirrored sunglasses and feigning a look of polite disinterest, as always. On his left sat Birkin, sullen and unkempt, his hair a tangle and his eyes betraying a serious lack of sleep. In all his years of managing Umbrella's Raccoon City facilities, Spencer had never before had two brilliant minds like these working for him at the same time, and he enjoyed simply studying them, reading their expressions and gauging their reactions. Despite their intelligence, both of them were easy to read, easy to anticipate. Manipulating such amazing prodigies would be the high point of Spencer's entire career. These two would go on to accomplish great things, of that there was no doubt, but Spencer knew from experience that men always performed better when they were competing with someone else. And with Marcus successfully out of the way, Spencer had free reign to pit these two geniuses against each other. The fact that they were so young only made it more pleasurable. It was always good to get them early on, it was easier to train them that way.

"You might be wondering why I called you both here today," he said. "You probably suspect it has something to do with the unfortunate turn of events involving the late Dr. Marcus. Maybe it does, but that is coincidental. I would have called you here anyway, even if he had not met with such an untimely demise. I will admit, though, that his death makes things a bit more convenient in this respect."

"What do you mean?" Birkin interrupted.

"He means that Marcus' death was just the means to an end," Wesker said. "Don't you?"

Spencer smiled. Setting these two against each other was going to be fun indeed. "Yes, Wesker. That's what I mean. But it was not the only means, just the most appropriate one. Even if he were still alive, it would not change anything."

"The why did you kill him?" Birkin asked brazenly, and the anger in his voice was hard to hide. Spencer realized that Birkin was upset that Marcus had been killed at all, not just that he had not been involved in it or at least consulted first. The murder itself was what he found fault with, not just the method by which it was performed.

"He was out of control," Spencer said. "He was putting us all in danger. Hasn't your friend here told you what went on there?"

"No, I haven't," Wesker said. "I didn't think you wanted me to."

"Did he infect other people? Is that what happened?" Birkin asked, leaning forward, his expression grave. Combined with his bloodshot, sunken eyes, the look on his face reminded Spencer of a death's head mask.

"Yes, he infected five people. One of them was a young woman that he ordered security guards to kidnap for his experiment. Another was one of the janitors at the training mansion. You may have even met him."

Birkin collapsed back into his chair, his face losing color. "Oh, my God."

"Now do you understand why we had to do it?"

"He shot at us first," Wesker said, trying to justify his involvement. "We ordered him to give up, but he refused. We had no choice but to take him down."

Spencer raised a hand, gesturing toward Wesker. "It's all right, he wasn't blaming you. Were you, William?"

Birkin closed his eyes and shook his head, the hair hanging in front of his eyes swaying back and forth with the motion. "No, I wasn't blaming Wesker." He opened his eyes and leveled them at Spencer. "I was blaming you."

Spencer smiled, revealing bright, even teeth. Birkin would not have been surprised if they had been sharpened into points. "As well you should, dear boy. As well you should. I made the order, I'm ultimately responsible." He waved his hand as if the conversation topic was a bothersome mosquito. "But enough of that, I was about to tell you why I called you here in the first place."

"Yes," Wesker said, "Why did you send for us?"

"Because I'm going to shut down the training facility and reassign you both to different laboratories."

Spencer reveled in the stunned silence that followed. Wesker, behind his apparently unshakable exterior, was completely shocked by the decision, as Spencer knew he would be. After all, he had promised to let Wesker take over Marcus' work at the lab, so how could he do that if he was being reassigned? Birkin, if anything, looked like he believed he was the subject of some outrageous practical joke; he looked on the verge of laughing in despair. He covered his eyes with his hands, almost shaking as he tried to resist exploding into a temper tantrum. Spencer wallowed in the emotional torment playing out in front of him for a few moments before giving them back a semblance of stability.

"It's not as bad as you think. The labs will remain open for research, but the training facility itself will be discontinued. A new training facility is opening up in Arizona, so keeping this one running is no longer necessary. And your reassignment is not as drastic as it sounds. Wesker, I'm transferring you to the main Arklay laboratory to continue your study of Marcus' work. Birkin, I'm going to send you to the new lab in the center of the city, which you'll find has more advanced resources to aid you in your own research."

"Why send us to different labs?" Birkin asked. "Marcus wanted us to work together as much as possible."

"Yes, and Marcus is dead."

"You don't want us working together, then?" Wesker said, knowing the answer.

"You are both going to be working on drastically different projects," Spencer pointed out. "So you won't have much to talk about as far as your work goes. Feel free to associate with each other during your time off, but I doubt that you'll have much of it. You're both going to be very busy."

Suddenly, Birkin caught on. "Am I going to be in charge of the lab?"

After a short pause, Spencer nodded. "I'm promoting both of you to research project manager, effective immediately. Birkin will run the city lab and work on the medical uses of the Progenitor, while Wesker will run the Arklay lab and continue Marcus' work on the mutative qualities of the Progenitor."

Once more, Spencer carefully watched their reactions. Wesker sat up straighter in his chair, a satisfied smile just barely curving the edges of his mouth. Birkin set one elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his chin in his hand, watching Spencer as Spencer watched him back. Wesker was obviously happy with the outcome, but there was no fooling Birkin. He was calculating things in the back of his head, and Spencer could almost make out the equations floating there.

"Can I bring any of my assistants along?" Birkin ventured.

"Of course, if you like. There are other scientists already there who will be instructed to work for you as well. You'll have about thirty people under you."

"What about me?" Wesker asked eagerly.

"There are almost sixty people working here, and most of them will be under you, but not all. Some of them are independents who report only to me."

Birkin spoke up again. "And I'll be free to conduct whatever research I like?"

"I would expect you to continue the work you're already doing, but yes, you can work on anything you like. You've expressed an interest in using the Progenitor for medical advance, so the lab is well prepared to deal with work of that nature."

Birkin lifted himself out of the chair and stood. "I'd like to get started then, if that's all right with you. I have some things I want to finish up at the other lab."

"Go ahead," Spencer said.

Birkin gave Wesker one last look before leaving the office, moving like a man on a mission. Wesker shook his head as the door clicked shut, smiling to himself as if amused at something that no one else found funny.

"What on your mind?" Spencer asked.

Wesker reached into his pocket. "Do you care if I have a cigarette?" he asked, pulling out an unopened pack and a lighter.

"I don't mind. In fact, I'll have one as well," Spencer said, opening one of his desk drawers and taking out his own pack of cigarettes.

Wesker lit up and took a long drag. Spencer put a cigarette between his lips and Wesker held out the lighter to light it for him. "I didn't know you smoked," he said, putting the lighter away.

"Since I was seventeen. But back then, everyone smoked. It's a lot less socially acceptable now. They say it causes cancer."

Wesker took the cigarette from his mouth and held it between his fingers, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "It probably does. But there are worse diseases to get, I suppose."

Spencer laughed. "Indeed there are! Cancer would be a blessing compared to what we could be infected with."

"Have you had time to look over the notes I gave you?"

"Some of them."

"Marcus created something new. It's a completely new strain of the Progenitor. He called it the T-virus."

"Yes, I know."

"I'm still looking at his papers, but as far as I can tell, he didn't have time to do much testing with the T-virus. I think he discovered it just a day or two ago."

"That recently?"

"Yes, so he doesn't have a whole lot written about it. I want you to know that I don't know what we're dealing with. Marcus speculated that the T-virus was different from the Progenitor, but so far it seems to have the same basic qualities."

"Just perform the tests and see what happens."

"I'm going to, but as of right now, I don't have any idea what the T-virus does when injected directly into a living host. The security guard that Marcus infected entered post-resurrection phase, but he was killed by those leeches and the virus was passed on by them."

Spencer nodded and blew out smoke, tapping his cigarette and dropping the ashes to the floor. "I understand, Wesker. You have a few days to plan how best to proceed. Just follow your procedures."

"Yes, sir," Wesker said.

"And don't worry so much about the virus. Marcus' lab was just the training ground. The Arklay lab has many more secrets to offer you. You haven't even scratched the surface."