Corrupting Dr. Nice Read Online Free

of the place was pretty quiet; most of the others must be testing their own cast iron stomachs at dinner, which Owen had skipped in order to prepare Wilma for the trip. And avoid an embarrassing farewell scene at which his colleagues would fawn over him and Dunkenfield would press requests for him to pass on to his father.
    In his room Owen sat down at his desk to scrape the mud off his boot soles. When he turned up the right boot he found a glittering butterfly flattened against his heel. Shining green and gold in the light of his desk lamp, it was of a species he hadn't seen before. It was also quite dead.
    =Another species down the tubes.=
    "There are probably thousands of these things in a one kilometer radius."
    =If they're smart they'll stay that far away from those killer feet of yours. You're lucky some Brontosaurus hasn't returned the favor.=
    Owen peeled the insect from his boot.
    He was gathering up his suitcase and notebook when Bill whispered in his mind, =I trust naked free screaming obsessive art women!= For perhaps the one thousandth time Owen cursed his father for implanting the AIdvisor in him. The internal AI had proved useful hundreds of times since Owen had gotten him as a boy, but Owen had long since come to realize it was just another attempt by his parents to protect their investment. It would not do for the only male heir to the world's fifth largest private fortune to face the world without a competitive advantage--and a parent-programmed conscience. Bill had been modeled on the bodyguard Owen had until he was seven--William Oakley, head of security at Thornberry, the Vannice estate. Oakley was an ex-spook martial arts specialist with a mysterious past. Bill even had Oakley's voice. Worst of all, in a perceived crisis, for the purposes of protecting his charge, Bill had the power to overrule Owen's voluntary muscles and take control of his body.
    His father's picking a spook for the job had been a bad idea. Bill's protectiveness was getting out of hand, and his gruff banter was slipping toward abuse. Of late Bill had taken to generating nonsense sentences that he would project into Owen's ear at arbitrary times. The prevailing sentiments seemed to have something to do with naked women, sex and god. Owen did not see how this in any way applied to him. Add to this Bill's increasing paranoia and the result was Owen was determined to take him into the shop when he got back to the 21st century.
    From the live animals lab Owen took the lightweight opaque case holding Wilma, another infant Apatosaurus megacephalos, and headed for the transit building. It was full night now. Out in the woods his shrew-like ancestors had emerged from burrows to hunt insects. Clouds of moths swarmed in the perimeter lights. He passed between the twin fan palms that marked the edge of the clearing. Down the slope toward the lake a stand of pines obscured the scar where Pike had been stepped on while examining the rhamphorhynchus. They'd planted a dogwood to mark the spot.
    Wilma was heavier than Owen expected. Her last weigh-in she'd been only ten kilograms. When she moved about in her carrier he struggled to maintain his balance. He reached the main building and headed toward the transit stage. There he was greeted by a little going-away party: Drs. Marks, Dunkenfield and Bracken. Owen set down the carrier and rubbed his shoulder. The others helped load his suitcase onto the stage. Marks gave Owen a bear hug.
    "So long, Owen," he said. "It's been a treat having you work with us. Give our regards to your father."
    "Remind him about the new gene chromatographer," said Dr. Bracken.
    "And the shower," said Dunkenfield. The others scowled at him. "Well, somebody has to look out for the common welfare," Dunkenfield protested. "Or the next academic they send back here will find a pile of corpses."
    "Don't worry," Owen said. "I won't forget. I want to say--I want to tell you how much it's meant to me to work with a group of thinkers