William watched as Sergei righted himself. He hadn't felt quite as lightheaded upon his awakening, and he wondered exactly what was in that syringe to cause the man to have such difficulty standing.
He stiffened at the question about the database. It was only so long that he could defer answers to questions he didn't know, loathe as he was to admit it.
"You should ask Spencer," William murmured. "He keeps the answers to these things so highly guarded." A pause, as he considered the man's other words. Clearly, his hibernation had been open news, if that man knew. He wondered, had Albert found out he was still alive? If that was so, why hadn't he ever come to find him? William's jaw set firmly, his fingers curling into fists. Perhaps he was no use to Albert anymore. William had known this day would come, but he hadn't wanted to think of it. Why was he even alive, if--
Sherry, of course. Sherry was the only reason he had to live.
"As for the virus," he said, harshly, "Spencer couldn't dream of controlling it. It's far too complicated for him or any of his beloved scientists to contain. G is mine and mine alone." His eyes met Sergei's, the gold in them glinting fiercely. "It fell back on its own. G mutates to what is needed of it. You'd do well to remember that."
It had mutated to serve the purposes of its master, he thought, proudly. The fact that he was sounding more and more like Marcus with each word was not something that occurred to him in the slightest.