by Vern Buzarde
“Now, bring me the man I came here for. And I want this ping-pong table.”
***
At midnight, over the Java Sea in Milo’s private jet, he asked Iko Sukarno if he understood what happened.
“I have simply been kidnapped by yet another wealthy megalomaniac intent on leveraging my knowledge for purposes I would never condone.”
“Yes. But have any of the others offered you a way out? Wealth in an amount that would make you completely untouchable?”
“Is this what you are offering, Mr. Ackerman?”
“Yes. Help me achieve my goals, and you walk away with a hundred million dollars and a new identity. You can live in luxury. Meet a girl. Or a boy. Have kids. Or not. Disappear and never have to look over your shoulder.”
“What horrible thing would I have to do in order to win such a prize?”
“Help me save the world.”
10
The days turned to weeks, the weeks to months. Tess fell into a routine of five-mile runs before sunrise—the streets were always plowed no matter how early she started—followed by long work days. Every spare moment was spent searching for the person who had sabotaged the Essex.
Everything she discovered about Natalie McKay pointed to a bright, straitlaced girl. Academic star, mediocre athlete, perfect daughter to doting parents. She’d grown up in central Virginia, the only child of a junior college professor and an administrative assistant. Like Tess, Natalie had received a full scholarship to MIT, where they had met, and had flourished academically. The rest Tess already knew—she and Natalie were hired by NASA the same year. NASA had been the only employer either of them ever had.
Tess searched her memory dozens of times, trying to remember anything out of the ordinary in Natalie’s behavior. Other than the day of the event, she drew a blank. Natalie’s cell phone records and email had been scrutinized by the FBI, but that had turned up nothing. Her family and friends all professed shock and outrage at any suggestion she was involved in an act of terrorism. The only image she could find on the internet was a photo of a young Natalie being handed an award by the tech legend Milo Ackerman.
But why is she dead? What was she telling me that day?
One week prior to the eighteen-month mark since accepting Satoshi’s offer, she met Dora one morning as usual. Tess was eager to discuss a book she had started; Dora was a voracious reader. But she seemed off that day, distracted by something. She repeatedly checked her phone, and her normally enthusiastic conversation was replaced by a nervous reluctance to engage. Tess knew better than to ask.
As Dora stood to leave, she leaned close to Tess and whispered, “Listen, there are… I just want you to know there’s a lot going on under this roof. Well, I guess it’s technically not really a roof, more like a mountain.” Dora’s phone buzzed. She looked at it. “I’ve gotta go. See you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here.”
But the next three days, Dora didn’t show. Tess waited each day, beyond the normal fifteen minutes they usually spent together, hoping she was just late. On the third day, as she sipped her coffee, an alarm sounded, and she heard an unusual commotion. A girl wearing only a gown exited one of the other doors and ran across the lobby toward Tess. She was crying and seemed desperate. She scanned the room, a wild look in her eyes. She was bleeding. The hair on the back of her head was red, caked with dried blood.
She zeroed in on Tess and screamed, “Please help me! Please!”
“Of course I’ll help,” Tess said, trying to comfort the girl, holding her wet, trembling hands. “What is happening? Who are you running from?”
Two security guards ran toward them. Tess felt relieved. These men could find out who had harmed the girl, keep her safe. Instead, they grabbed her by the arms and dragged her away. She screamed as if on her way to an execution. Tess ran after them, demanding to know where they were going.
“Please?” the girl whimpered, staring into Tess’s eyes. “I’m not supposed to be—”
A third guard stepped in front of Tess and said, “Please, ma’am, step back. We’ll handle this.”
“I will not. Where are you taking her?” The guards dragged the girl through the door she’d come out of. “I want to see Garrett Oakley.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Mr. Oakley’s not here. I’m in charge until he returns.”
“Where are you taking her? What is the nature of the project taking place in there? I want to see the person in charge.”
“Ma’am, I’ll inform Mr. Oakley of your concerns as soon as he returns. Meanwhile, I’m going to have to ask you not to cause a scene. We—”
Tess let loose with a litany of curses, then caught herself. She turned and headed back to the lab. Once there, she tried to replay it all in her head. The girl was terrified…and she had been unable to help her. That was unacceptable. Simply not an option.
When Garrett returned the next day, Tess confronted him. “That girl was bleeding. Her hair was caked with dried blood. She was scared to death. Garrett, what happened to her? The guards treated her like a prisoner. She looked like she escaped some medieval torture chamber.”
Garrett cocked his head. “Well, that’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think? The girl is schizophrenic, a volunteer. She was given an experimental medication being developed to treat her condition and a whole host of others. She had an episode, fell, and lacerated her scalp. The guards were only trying to keep her from further injuring herself. She’s fine now. I would introduce you, but it’s a controlled study.” He grimaced. “Medieval torture? Really?”
Tess wasn’t convinced, but she couldn’t really argue. The explanation was plausible. “Then what about Dora Hahn? She just disappeared. She wouldn’t do that without telling me. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”
“Well, if you know Dora, then you’re aware she can be pretty volatile. I can’t get into the details because I don’t know them all, but my understanding is she didn’t quit. And she wasn’t fired. But she did leave. Apparently in a blaze of glory, pistols smoking. Some disagreement with her team. She made her opinion of them pretty clear, and everyone agreed she’d take a break for a few days. She pissed off quite a few people. But Satoshi likes her. They seem to have a bond. I’m sure she’ll be back. She’s really quite passionate about her work.”
“Did she say where she was going? Can I contact her?”
“I wouldn’t divulge that information, even if I had it. And I don’t.” His expression softened. “Tess, I…”
She was aware he was attracted to her and couldn’t deny…something was there. But not yet. Nearly two years had passed since Ryan’s death, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Maybe no amount of time would be.
“Tess, I’m not trying to pry or come across as insensitive. But are you, emotionally, do you think you’re ready to—”
“Not yet, Garrett. Someday, I think. But not yet.”
He smiled, seemingly relieved, probably because he had finally initiated a dialogue. Tess felt a tiny ember of excitement, offset by overwhelming guilt. A relationship with any man other than Ryan had seemed unthinkable, and yet…
Garrett looked at her differently now, a new confidence in his eyes. “Then I’ll trust you to let me know when that time comes. When you’re ready.”
Later, Tess sat in the control room, contemplating, still disturbed by the girl’s physical condition and state of panic, not to mention Dora’s sudden decision to leave. Garrett’s explanation made sense, but for some reason it had done little to alleviate her concern.
She looked at the monitor of her workstation. She had views of the main lobby, hallway, recreation room, control room, and the lab below. For the first time, she looked up at the camera mounted above her and disabled the feed to the security guards. A tiny red light popped on. She was still able to monitor the same rooms as before. She reactivated the security feed and looke
d up. A tiny green light appeared.
11
In the facility’s elegant dining area, Tess poked her Caesar salad with a fork and studied the other twenty or so people having lunch. She rarely came here, electing to have meals brought to their small break room and eating late dinners in her bungalow on the nights she made it home. Outside of her conversations with Dora, she found herself disconnected from anyone outside her team. Except, of course, Garrett Oakley. With Dora on leave, she felt isolated.
A handful of Asian men conversed in hushed tones. Maybe Korean? Several people sat alone. Tess tried to assess her current state. Am I lonely? No, that wasn’t it. In fact, she welcomed the isolation. Tess had two priorities in her life, Prajna and the Essex.
Something was off, though. No one would meet her eyes.
Uneasy, Tess wondered if possibly the stress was getting to her. Her feelings about Ryan were still unresolved, a festering wound that wouldn’t heal, regardless of how totally she threw herself into work or the number of miles she ran. It had been nearly two years since the Essex catastrophe, but the pain was still fresh. Watching it on a wall-sized monitor. The seven-minute delay. Everything kept replaying in her mind on an endless loop. She couldn’t close it out. Tess wondered if she was doomed to a life of mourning. She had to find a way to move on.
But I can’t stop.
Sudden silence filled the dining room. She turned her head, following the eyes of everyone else. Three people in hospital gowns shuffled in.
A radio crackled, and two security guards ran by. The guards caught up and stopped them, gently. They offered no resistance, showed no distress. The guards turned them around and escorted them back out. Tess got up and followed as they made their way back to the entrance of Q-2.
A voice behind her said, “I can almost see the wheels turning in there. Is that smoke coming out of your ears?”
Tess whipped around, turning her palms upward, waiting for Garrett to elaborate.
“I’m not sure what that was about, but my guess is a door malfunctioned in one of the labs.”
“I want to go in there, Garrett. I understand the need to keep things confidential, but this is creepy. This lack of transparency, the way each project is isolated. I just—”
“Tess, you know that’s not something I could allow. I don’t have the authority. The only person who could is the man himself.”
“Then ask him. Garrett, this is important to me. I need to see for myself. My imagination is running wild. It’s distracting and diminishing my ability to concentrate on Prajna. Please ask Dr. Satoshi. I promise I won’t disrupt anything. I won’t ask questions or get in anybody’s way. I’ll just see for myself, then leave. For good. I’ll never ask again.”
“Tess, the other project managers are all extremely secretive. They’re all—”
“Ask him, Garrett. Ask Dr. Satoshi. If he says no, I’ll abide by the decision. But promise me you’ll at least let him know about my concerns.”
Tess gazed into Garrett’s sea-green eyes. They softened. He sighed, smiled, and nodded.
Tess returned to the control room and a flurry of activity. Sandeep and Angus were arguing over some ancient science fiction television show. Byron was berating Jeannie, something about misunderstanding a request. Lucien had his earphones in, the volume so loud she could hear the music. The others were hunkered over their workstations, appearing to be deep in thought.
They were days away from finishing the first phase, and were ahead of schedule. The pressure was increasing, and the team needed her to remain steady and focused. For her to do that, she had to eliminate outside distractions. The most efficient way was for Satoshi to grant her request.
Tess was almost asleep when her phone buzzed just before midnight with a text from Garrett.
Meet me at the coffee kiosk tomorrow at 8.
***
“Tess, it’s time. Tess. Tess. Good God, honey! Snap out of it!” Natalie’s expression was both concerned and bemused. She’d let herself in the apartment with her emergency key.
Tess realized she was standing barefoot, wearing only a baggy paint-splattered shirt. She held a brush in her left hand and was facing a canvas, but she didn’t recognize what was painted there.
“Tess,” Natalie said, “how long have you been at this? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you since yesterday. Honey, please tell me you didn’t get lost again. We really have to figure out how to get this thing under control. Where’s your watch? Where’s your alarm?”
Tess ignored her, still staring at the painting. Natalie pulled open the curtains and raised a window. “You need air! Light! Nobody ever said creative people have to live like vampires.”
A flood of late-morning sunshine lit up the new painting, and for a second, Tess thought it might explode. Natalie turned and really saw the painting for the first time.
“My God,” she whispered, “what is it? I mean, it’s beautiful. But—”
“From another place,” Tess mumbled. “A lonely place. Far away.”
“Come on,” Natalie ordered. “Let’s get you cleaned up and fed. I’m taking you out. We need to get you around living things.” She looked at the new painting again. “That’s the darkest thing I’ve ever seen. I mean, like I said, it’s beautiful—I think. I can’t quite get my mind around it. I’m not sure I want to.”
Tess smiled, amused at Natalie’s reaction. Eliciting emotion was always good, even negative emotion. “Yes,” she said. “I am freaking starving. Give me ten minutes to jump in the shower and let’s get pizza. Lots of pizza!”
“That’s my girl. By the way, I had an interesting conversation with a scruffy guy holding a guitar last night. One Ryan Quinn. He was interrogating me. About you.”
Tess whipped her head around. “Ryan? I met him at the opening. He seemed very nice.”
“Oh, he thought the same of you. He said he forgot to ask for your phone number before he left the gallery. I told him he could just look it up on your website, but I saw you removed it.”
“My phone wouldn’t stop ringing after the show. Did you give it to him? My number?” Tess tried not to sound too eager.
“No. I’m going to leave that up to you. But I got his. In case you’d like to call him. Oh, and while I’m thinking about it, Daniel Fillmore’s personal assistant has been calling. He’s apparently obsessed with your painting. He wants to make you another offer.”
“I’m not ready to let that one go. I know it seems silly. But for some reason, that one—”
“Well, you can pretty much name your price. The assistant even suggested possibly leasing it. So if you didn’t want to sell, you could have it back. You know, these guys can be pretty determined about getting what want. Once they buy everything they’ve ever wanted, they look for things. The idea they can’t have something makes them batshit crazy. Anyway, think about it.”
Tess heard the familiar beeping and tried to will it away. The room, Natalie, and the painting faded away.
***
Tess woke but didn’t open her eyes. She was completely disoriented, reluctant to face what she might see. The dream was drifting away, and she tried to hold on to it. It felt so real. She didn’t want it to end.
She could see her father, smoking a cigarette and staring at the chalkboard. The numbers moved on differing planes, becoming something more akin to a musical score. She had the feeling they were beginning to make sense. Her father smiled and said, “It’s all there.”
She sat up, stretched, and caught something in the corner of her eye. It was the painting from her dream. The one from the gallery. Annica’s Portal. She stared, heart racing, unable to come up with any explanation for what she saw. She slid out of bed, reaching out to touch it. It dissolved under her fingertips and disappeared.
I’m finally losing it. Should I call Karen?
12
Three
hours later, Tess met Garrett at the coffee kiosk. He smiled and said, “How did I know you’d be early?”
“Because you, Garrett Oakley, are a very intelligent alpha male. And you knew I’d be anxious to get started.”
He grinned. “Mind if I grab a coffee first? I’ve been up all night. Someone has been trying to hack into the security cameras. Someone very clever.”
“Are you serious? Would you like me to take a look?” She immediately regretted her offer.
Garrett grimaced. “Yes. And no. This is what I do. We should have it all under control soon. By the way, a few others are going to join us. They should be here any minute.”
“Thank you for this, Garrett. I want you to know how much it means to me. I hope Dr. Satoshi wasn’t angry or insulted.”
“Well, you can ask him yourself.”
Satoshi was walking toward them accompanied by two uniformed Asian men and a woman. Tess’s heart skipped a beat, and she concentrated on remaining calm.
“And look, he brought the Gurkhas,” Garrett said.
“Gurkhas? Oh. Yes, I remember them.”
“They’re from Nepal. Some of the fiercest warriors who ever lived. There’s an old saying that if a man tells you he’s not afraid of death, he’s either lying or a Gurkha.”
Satoshi smiled widely. “Tess, it’s wonderful to see you again.”
“And you, Dr. Satoshi. What a surprise!”
“I heard about your concerns and dropped everything to come and put your mind at ease. I cannot have my superstar distracted by speculation or concerns for people’s safety. So I came myself to ensure you got a full and totally transparent tour of the facility.”
“Doctor, um, Anton, I’m embarrassed. I didn’t mean for you… Your time…it’s… I’m sorry.”
“No, no, no. Don’t apologize. I told you it was my intention to do whatever was necessary to ensure our success. The Prajna Project is the most important thing we’re working on, and I appreciate you conveying your concerns. Although what you’re about to see will be fairly anticlimactic, it may interest you to some degree. And if it alleviates any negative perceptions you may have about what we’re attempting to achieve, it’s well worth the effort. Also, this affords me a wonderful opportunity for a personal review. Something long overdue.”
