Operation Indigo Sky

by Lawrence Ambrose

  I located Janine standing just outside the door.

  "Hey," I said.

  "Hi. You're quite the athlete, aren't you?"

  "Were you watching?"

  She smiled. "I confess I was. And I don't even like sports."

  We strolled out to the main exercise area.

  "Every muscle in my shoulders and back is aching, thanks to you," she said with a wry grimace. "And my legs are even worse. Fair warning: if you say 'no pain, no gain,' I may hit you – if I can make my arms move."

  "I'm glad you warned me. So what are you planning to do here? I don't think they have a Jacuzzi."

  "To be honest, I just came to see you." The faintest blush creased her jaw line, and she looked briefly away. "I'm playing hooky today."

  This day was definitely looking up. "Do you usually work on Saturdays?"

  "Oh, yeah. Sometimes even Sundays, these days. We have a bit of a rush order that needs filling. But I've been butting my head against a brick wall, so..."

  My ears pricked up. Could it really be this easy to get her to open up about her work?

  "Aren't you brilliant scientists always in a rush?" I asked.

  "Ha. Well, yes, but sometimes it's really a rush." As we paused in the front area, she focused her laser-beam eyes on me. "You googled me, didn't you?"

  "You caught me." I grinned. "Did you google me?"

  "Yes. I couldn't resist. You've obviously done a much better job of keeping your life private than I have. The only thing that came up was a vague listing as a 'security consultant' on Linkedin."

  I guessed I should be grateful that Markus and his people were even that thorough.

  "It doesn't pay to advertise too much in my line of work," I said.

  "You're some form of private investigator, aren't you?"

  "You could say that."

  "Man of mystery. And here I am – an open book."

  "But not exactly easy reading."

  She laughed softly. "So I've been told."

  Janine made a point of watching some middle-aged women struggle on the treadmills across the room as a slight frown worked its way onto her lips.

  "Looks like it's going to be one hundred and twenty today," I said. "I was thinking of going somewhere near water." I added after a moment of thought, "How do you feel about a picnic?"

  "It's not a terrible idea."

  "Lake Palmdale isn't far. Do they allow swimming there?"

  "Only if you're in a private club. There's Elizabeth Lake or Little Rock Reservoir, but the water isn't great for swimming and there will be approximately three trillion people running amok on a Saturday."

  "Bummer," I said.

  "Hmmm." Janine touched a finger to her lips, a small smile forming. "I have an idea. I think I know a place. Not a large body of water, but it's relatively clean and quiet."

  "Sounds perfect."

  "Why don't you follow me there?"

  "I should stop somewhere and get some food and drink for the picnic."

  "There's a grocery store on the way."

  We retreated to our cars through the sweltering heat, and I followed her down the road a short distance into a small mall with a Vons grocery store. After a quick shopping spree, I followed Janine's bright red vehicle west into Leona Valley toward what I assumed would be Melissa Creek Road. She was taking me to her home! The odds/force apparently was still with me. If someone had told me that within two days of arriving I'd be enjoying a poolside picnic with Janine Callas at her home, I would've thought they had amazing drugs.

  We drove up her long driveway to her home, which looked like something out of a storybook with its spire-shaped roofs and parapet-like balcony. She rolled ahead into one of the open garages, and I stopped behind her next to a large swimming pool that featured a ranch-style cabana and a whirlpool.

  "Funny," I said as we both got out, "I don't remember seeing this lake on the map."

  "True. Not many have heard of Lake Janine ." She spoke her name with a French accent as she made a sweeping gesture. "Not the best for fishing or waterskiing, but adequate for a swim and a picnic."

  "Great idea." I turned in a circle to take in the storybook house and her Joshua tree-cactus plant-studded yard. "Cool place."

  "I wish. I'm a Seattle girl. I dream of seventy-degree summer days, monsoon rain, and profusions of green flora. Sometimes I pretend I'm living in a Martian colony. Makes it feel more acceptable somehow."

  I retrieved the Styrofoam cooler and followed her past the pool to the front door. We stepped into large, open rooms flavored with the southwestern décor so popular in Phoenix. Framed plaques and photos commemorating Janine's scientific milestones – not a small number considering her age – hung or perched here and there. I wondered if her former Significant Other's accolades had shared those spaces previously. The house had a half-empty feel to me.

  "I'll get you the swim trunks and some towels," she said. "You can change down here while I change upstairs."

  After our changeovers were complete - I wondered if the swim trunks belonged to her ex-boyfriend – we headed out to the pool. In her modest, blue one-piece suit Janine might not match Lilith's extravagant legginess or immaculate curves, but she had a cute, slim little body which was nothing to be ashamed of.

  I carried the cooler with us to the cabana. The temperature gauge hanging in the shade read 97 degrees. The white cement at poolside radiated heat like one of my mother's kilns.

  "I don't know about you," I said, "but I'm ready to get wet."

  "Be my guest."

  I scampered over the sizzling cement and dived into the deep end. For a long moment I forgot Janine and my reason for being here and just reveled in the cool, silent depths. I hung out on the bottom maybe thirty seconds before leisurely floating back to the surface. Janine was frowning down at me, her hands braced on her small hips.

  "I was about to jump in and attempt to rescue you," she said.

  "Do you have any training in water rescue?"

  "No. I probably would've drowned both of us."

  She walked around in sandals and entered the water an inch at a time on the shallow end. I drifted over to her. She smiled self-consciously and took another step into the pool. She was one of those people who take a long time adjusting to the water, even if it was in the mid-eighties. I had an image of sweeping her off her feet and carrying her out into the water. I had the feeling she might not even object. I needed to stop thinking those kinds of thoughts.

  Janine took a final downward step and sank, shivering, into the water. I smiled at her.

  "This is kind of weird, isn't it?" she said. "I met you yesterday, and here you are at my home, in my pool."

  "I was thinking the same thing. I guess you're one of those friendly, outgoing, live-dangerously types."

  "Ha ha. I knew my last boyfriend for most of a year before he saw my house. We were co-workers. I didn't even invite him. He just showed up one day and announced he wanted to be more than friends."

  "When did you break up?"

  "About six months ago. How about you? How long have you been girlfriend-less. I'm guessing not long."

  "A year and a half."

  "Hmm. Anyway, my point was that it usually takes me a lot of time before I'm comfortable with someone."

  "Are you comfortable with me?"

  "Weirdly so. I have this strange, illogical sense that I could tell you anything."

  "Must be my sparkly personality."

  "Or your sparkly blue eyes."

  I considered a wisecrack, but was abruptly at a loss for words. I hadn't been expecting that compliment or this level of rapport. It was as if we'd known each other for years. Keeping things friendly but cool was looking more challenging by the moment.

  "What makes it weirder," she said, "was that you were the kind of guy who snickered 'four eyes' when he passed me in the hall."

  "I never would've done that."

  "Sorry. I meant you physically resemble that type of guy. You know, the qui
ntessential jock."

  "Oh."

  "You did play sports in high school, didn't you?"

  "Football and basketball, and wrestling for the last two years. But I was also on the school newspaper."

  "A jock and a writer. What did you do after high school?"

  "I enlisted in the Marines."

  "Oh, uh, wow. For some reason I'm not surprised."

  It was starting to worry me that people could read me that easily. Maybe I should grow my hair longer and wear a beard?

  "Why?" I asked her.

  "I'm not sure. Maybe it's the way you hold yourself. So straight and confident. Sort of a coiled energy, as if you could leap into action at a moment's notice."

  "I might've learned that crossing streets in L.A. when I was stationed in Pendleton."

  Janine laughed. "I think they should make a zombie apocalypse featuring L.A. drivers. Except it might be too scary."

  I tread water back from her, trying not to preen under her compliments. I did feel confident about some things, true, but at this point the number of things I felt clueless about seemed to far outweigh them.

  "Was I being too blunt or too analytical?" Worry flickered in her eyes. "I tend to do that."

  "No. It's just not part of my job description to be easy to read."

  "Oh, right. You're some kind of spy?"

  "Some kind, I guess."

  "You can't tell me more? Even a small hint?"

  "Can you tell me more about the project you're working on?"

  "Touché." She pushed out and frog-stroked past me. Then she swiveled around slowly in the water, a cleft appearing in her forehead. "Wait a minute. It just hit me. You're not with a security firm hired to check up on Skunk Works employees, are you?"

  I froze in the water. I hadn't expected that at all. Janine raised her sunglasses and peered at me with narrowed eyes. I was taking too long to respond. I dredged up a lame smile.

  "If I were checking up on you, why would I tell you I work in the security field?"

  "That wouldn't seem logical." She frowned. "Unless you're using reverse psychology."

  Janine paddled around me, her scrutiny growing more intense. Even fierce. I broke out laughing.

  "What?"

  "You look like a shark circling in for the kill."

  "Are you afraid?"

  "I'm just hoping I don't get a cut and start bleeding."

  Janine laughed. Her face partly relaxed, but her sharp-eyed, skeptical gaze persisted.

  "How old are you?" she asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

  "Twenty-nine. Thirty in November."

  "The big Three–Oh."

  "Yeah." I scowled reflexively at the prospect. "As in, 'Oh, shit!'"

  "Ha. I think you'll find it's more of a small 'o.' I'm not sure which one is the true big O."

  She swam back to the shallow end and climbed out. I swam a few leisurely laps before joining her in the shade of the cabana. She had already poured herself a glass of wine – the glass from an oak hutch on one wall. I broke out a beer. We gazed across the pool at her desert flower yard and the mostly brown hills beyond.

  "I couldn't help noticing that you didn't answer my questions about spying on ADP employees," she said.

  I gathered my wits. "No, I'm not spying on Skunk Works employees."

  "How about the organization itself?"

  Man, this girl was like a super-intelligent dog with a bone. But as I contemplated my doom, I thought I spotted a way of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.

  "Have you ever heard of a firm called Intelligence Security International?"

  Janine sat up straighter, her expression shifting from suspicion to anticipation. "No. What is it?"

  "It's a company that tests the security of private and government enterprises."

  "And you work for them?"

  "Yes."

  "You're testing Skunk Works' security?"

  I issued a loud sigh of resignation. "Sorry, Janine. I hope you can understand that I can't talk about my specific assignments."

  "I do understand. But I do have a right to know one thing. Am I part of your assignment?"

  I had no choice but to man-up and lie to her face. "Running into you was a total accident. I'm a gym-nut, and I was looking for a place to train."

  Janine broke our gaze with a small smile that suggested she was satisfied for now but reserving final judgment.

  "You must see a few things, doing what you do," she murmured.

  "True."

  Janine's pert features assumed a downward cast as she sipped her Zinfandel. I guessed she was dying to ask what kinds of things I'd seen.

  "I suppose you can't talk about that," she said.

  "Not really. That's part of my agreement." I crunched my beer and tossed it in the nearby garbage.

  "That's not the recycling bin."

  "Sorry."

  "Does it ever bother you?"

  "Not recycling?"

  "Ha, no. Seeing things and not being able to talk about them."

  I popped open another beer, and made my expression grave while I was smiling inside. I liked where this was going.

  "Yeah," I said. "That can be frustrating at times."

  "For me, too."

  "You know something? And this is just between us."

  "Of course."

  I leaned a little closer to her for dramatic effect. "Sometimes I'd like to pull another Edward Snowden."

  "Oh, wow. Really?"

  "Yes. Really."

  Janine poured herself another glass of wine. Her pouring hand was shaking. "It's that bad?"

  "From what I've seen, some big changes are coming in the next few months. Not of the good kind. Changes people maybe have the right to know about."

  "Oh." She drew out the word with a long breath. "It's funny, but I've been wondering about that myself. Nothing too concrete. It's just observing the patterns of our projects – the sudden emergency rush on everything. My boss is virtually a walking black hole. The universe could collapse into his dour expression."

  I smiled and nodded and sipped my beer.

  "Are you going to tell me or give me some hint what kind of changes are coming, Scott?"

  "Ever watch Deep Impact?"

  "Yes." Her face paled a shade. "Are we talking about asteroids? Because from what I've heard, there won't be any asteroid threats for centuries."

  "Do you think you would hear if there were?"

  "I think so." Her face paled another shade. "Are you speaking hypothetically or do you know as a fact that there's such a threat?"

  "I was just discussing cinema."

  I drank my beer, concentrating on my stoic exterior, while Janine scowled at me.

  "I don't appreciate being b.s.ed, Scott."

  "If you could know the moment of your death, would you want to?"

  "You're starting to creep me out."

  I shrugged and resumed my stoic expression.

  "You couldn't hide an approaching asteroid," she said. "Too many people watching the skies. And the government would begin emergency preparations if they did see something."

  "Would it?"

  Janine shook her head. "I can't say I'm one of those people who believes the evil government's out to get us."

  "But speaking practically, do you think the authorities would make a general announcement that would cause worldwide panic – maybe even an implosion of social order - or would it quietly spread the word to those in privileged positions?"

  Doubt crept into her annoyed expression. "I'd guess the president would make an announcement to the general public like in the movie."

  "Despite the massive social unrest that would cause?"

  "I don't know. I think I'd need more solid evidence to even go down that hypothetical road."

  "I'm not trying to convince you of anything, Janine. It's more about just wanting to talk, to share things with someone else."

  Janine's skeptical scowl lightened a little. A minute or two passed whil
e Janine mulled over my comments.

  "It's hard not to talk about things," she said in a subdued voice. "I really miss bouncing my ideas off other scientists. The free flow of ideas feeds creativity and also keeps you disciplined."

  "You work with other scientists on projects, don't you?"

  "Yes. But it's a small group, and we don't talk much, either. We concentrate on solving the problems we're given. But without talking, you can get in a rut, which is where I'm at right now."

  "I can relate. I'd like to talk about the shit I see, too. What bothers me most is the level of secrecy that so many government and corporate agencies maintain. I may be in the business of making sure they keep those secrets, but that doesn't mean I always think they should. A lot of stuff that's cloaked in secrecy ought to be open to public discussion. I'm with Snowden on that."

  Janine didn't speak for a while. I thought maybe I'd lost her. Maybe she was one of those people who believed Snowden was a traitor. Or maybe she just wasn't interested in politics. Women usually weren't – even really smart ones.

  "I tend to agree," said Janine. "There are too many things we're working on that could benefit humanity but instead are being sucked into the black hole of military or other government organizations."

  Right on!

  "Ben Rich supposedly said it would take an act of God to unlock advanced technologies from black projects."

  "He really said that? I don't find it totally hard to believe. All those years in school I dreamed of doing science that would help people, but it turns out the big research money is for military applications, and any innovations you create are for them."

  "Right. I think whatever we the people get from those innovations are by way of a 'trickle down' effect."

  We finished our drinks. I didn't realize I was starving until we hauled the sandwiches and salad and chips out of the cooler.

  "How did you start working for Skunk Works?" I asked.

  "They recruited me. I never even thought of coming here. Turned out my father had contacted a friend at Skunk Works, but I didn't know that until later. Anyway, they made me an offer I didn't think I could refuse. I'd have a fantastic budget, brilliant people to work with, and the opportunity to pursue my most far-fetched creative whimsies. As long as those whimsies fit into their program, I found out later."

  "Right."