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Unformatted text preview: credibly calm, both men and women red-eyed from crying, and all in their lawyerly tropical wool and oxford cloth. "Well, this is ... this is very disturbing news," Lark said. He could feel the blood rushing to his face now. He laid his hands on the back of the leather chair. He didn't want to sit down. He caught a discon- certing reflection of himself in the distant windows. The lights of the city were a smear beyond. What he saw was mainly all this-the floor lamps, the ring of high-backed leather chairs, the figure of Ryan stand- ing in the Corner. "All the material is gone," said Ryan, quietly and without recrimi- nation. "I'm afraid so. Dr. Flanagan is ... is dead, and they can't find the records. Also someone . . . and I can't for the life of me . . ." "We understand," said Ryan. "The same thing happened in New York yesterday afternoon. All the genetic records were removed. Same thing at the Genetic Institute in Paris." "Well, t...
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- Spring '10