The girl looked back down at the thumb. “I’ll have to remove my polish to make it match.”
“Paint the thumb instead. It won’t hurt it, and it’s less obvious.”
“What’s in it?”
Alexei studied her for a moment. “Do you really want to know?”
“I’m assuming you’re asking me to take a man’s life, not flavor his drink with artificial sweetener. I think I have a right to know how he’s going to die.”
“OK,” Alexei conceded. “It’s a substance called polonium-210.”
“What does it do?”
“It causes a very severe case of acute radiation syndrome. I’m happy to give you the details if you want, but it’s probably enough to say that he’ll be dead in three weeks, and there’s absolutely nothing anyone can do to stop it.”
“Will it be painful?”
Alexei watched her for a moment before responding. “Yes. Very.”
“Are you certain it’s safe to handle?”
“Absolutely. Polonium-210 doesn’t emit any gamma rays whatsoever, so it’s completely undetectable and perfectly safe to handle as long as you don’t ingest it. You have my word on that.”
The girl nodded. She put the prosthetic back in the canister, sealed it, then handed it back to Alexei. Alexei looked down at the canister, then back up at the girl.
“What’s the matter?”
“It isn’t going to work,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because Florian Lasker isn’t coming.”
Alexei’s expression went from shock at hearing Florian’s name to quiet fury. He reached for the panel beside him and locked both doors. “How did you know it was Florian?”
“Because he came to see me the day you got in touch with him.”
Alexei’s face was flush but he spoke calmly to the girl. “Tell me exactly what he said.”
The girl looked out her window at the rain. “He said you left him a message claiming that you heard he was in London on business, and that you happened to be in town, as well. He said you invited him to catch up over sushi, coffee, and a game of chess.” She paused, then turned to look at Alexei. “And then he offered me five million NGD to poison you instead of him.”
Alexei narrowed his eyes. “What did you tell him,” he asked her. “Did you tell him you’d do it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why are you just telling me this now? Why’d you wait until I gave you the polonium?”
“Because,” the girl said, “I was hoping the poison would be quick and painless enough that I could use it on myself.”
All the anger drained from Alexei’s face and he looked at the girl with anguish. “My god, Atsuko. Why would you say that?”
“Please don’t act like you suddenly care about me,” she said. “A minute ago, you were trying to talk me into doing something that would have probably either gotten me killed or thrown into prison for the rest of my life.”
“You know I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Why not? I wouldn’t have been of any use to you anymore. I’m just a pawn in the latest game of chess between you and Florian, and we both know what happens to pawns.”
“We’re all pawns in someone’s game, Atsuko. That doesn’t mean we don’t care about each other.”
The girl looked at Alexei with disbelief. “You really expect me to believe that?”
“That I care about you? I raised you, Atsuko. Of course I care about you.”
The girl laughed scornfully. “You didn’t raise me, Alexei. You paid someone to raise me. And you paid someone to train me to be a bloody assassin.”
“Atsuko—”
“And then you sent me away just in case you might have some need for me at some unspecified point in the future, and now that it turns out you don’t, I’ll never see or hear from you again. I understand that you’re Russian, Alexei, but that’s not exactly the way most normal people show that they care for one another.”
“We’re not exactly normal people, though, are we?”
“No, we’re not. You certainly saw to that.”
Alexei squinted at the girl. He knew this could be the last time he ever saw her, and he did not want their relationship to end in anger, but this was something he could not let go. He realized that he used almost everyone in his life, but he was proud of the fact that he also never took without giving something back.
“Atsuko, if you think you’re somehow missing out on something that everyone else in the world has, believe me when I tell you that you’re dead wrong. In fact, you have far more than most people.”
“Do I? You mean my extra thumb?”
“I mean that you have a purpose.”
“To pretend to live a normal life while I wait for the closest thing I ever had to a father to show up out of nowhere and ask me to murder someone? I suppose you could call that a purpose.”
“Your purpose isn’t to kill,” Alexei said. “Your purpose is to help change the world, and if that means having to kill someone, then so be it. I thought you could handle that, but if you can’t, then I’m sorry I overestimated you.”
“What I can’t handle is being treated as nothing but a resource. I want to hear you admit that we’re all expendable to you. I want to hear you admit that in your mind, all that matters is your own grand plan for the universe, and anything that gets in your way is simply collateral damage.”
“OK,” Alexei said. The anger was rising in him again and he leaned closer to the girl. “You are expendable to me, and all that matters is my own grand plan for the universe. Anything that gets in my way is simply collateral damage. Including you.”
The girl watched him silently. She blinked and a tear ran down her cheek. “I guess I should be relieved to finally hear you say that. Let me out, please.”
“You can get out now and never see or hear from me again, or you can listen to what else I have to say.”
He reached for the panel and unlocked the doors. The girl did not move. She picked at the rubber gasket between the door and the window with her fingernail.
“Atsuko, what you have to understand is that the only thing worse than death is having nothing to live for. The most important thing I’ve given all of you isn’t clothing, or shelter, or food, or training. It’s purpose. I’m sorry that I never told you this before, but I am very proud of you, Atsuko. I’m proud of the girl that you were, the woman that you’ve become, and I’m sure I’ll be proud of you no matter what you choose to do with your life from now on.”
The girl wiped her cheeks with her palms. She looked up at Alexei and when he smiled, she leaned over and put her arms around his neck. He rubbed her back as she clung to him.
“Please forget about Florian,” she said. “You can’t get to him. If you try, he’ll kill you.”
“No, he won’t,” Alexei said. He pushed the girl gently away and held her shoulders as he looked at her. “This isn’t a game of chess. This is my game, my rules, and I can beat him.”
The girl shook her head. “You’ve been planning this for almost five years. You had people all over the world waiting for just the right moment to strike, and he still saw it coming. I think he knew that I wouldn’t turn on you, but next time, he’ll find someone who will, or he’ll kill you himself.”
“Atsuko, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t walk away from this. Florian is far too dangerous, and it’s entirely my fault. I created him, and now I have to find a way to stop him.”
“Why?” the girl asked. “What did he do?”
“It isn’t what he’s done. It’s what he’s capable of doing. I created an opening for him to become CEO of Pearl Knight before I realized how out of control he was. If he takes it—and I’m virtually certain he will—he will not only have direct access to the president of the United States, but he could very well be in line to become the next president of the United States, at which point I won’t be able to get to him anymore. I have a very short window of time in whic
h to act, and I intend to take it.”
“So Americans get stuck with another corrupt and ineffective president,” the girl said. “So what? It’s not worth you losing your life over.”
“Atsuko, you have to understand that Florian won’t be content with just conquering the United States. As soon as he feels like he has gone as high as he can, he’ll turn his attention to the rest of the world.”
“You don’t know that.”
“What I know is that there is absolutely no limit to the amount of power that Florian will seek, and not a lot of people who can stop him. With his connections to Pearl Knight, he’ll have access to some of the most advanced and powerful military equipment in the world, and I believe that he will use every last piece of it to control as much money, as much land, as many resources—and most importantly, as many people—as he possibly can. Atsuko, it’s entirely possible that Florian Lasker could end up being the end of the United States as we know it. The lives of millions of people could be at stake.”
“Maybe,” the girl said. She kissed Alexei gently on the cheek before opening her door. She stepped out into the rain, then leaned back down. “But even if I never see or talk to you again, I don’t want you to be one of them.”
She closed the door and Alexei watched her walk back up the street and turn the corner. Although he knew that the girl represented the best chance he had at getting to Florian, he was surprised to find that some part of him was not sorry that she could not help him. His only regret at the moment was having asked her in the first place.
PART FOUR
ENTROPY POOL
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Andre has learned that torture is fundamentally about exploiting conditions unforeseen by evolution. The role of negative physiological response is to provide us with incentive to keep ourselves safe. We either correct the conditions causing the discomfort, or we ultimately succumb to them. Either way, stress, fear, and pain are supposed to be fleeting—no more than brief catalysts to convince us to take corrective action. But just as the creativity and ingenuity of mankind has lifted us above so many of nature’s intended limitations, so has it subverted nature’s intended limitations on suffering. The countless evolutionary iterations that have culminated in modern man did not adequately anticipate the possibility of unrelenting and sustained horror without the power to resolve it. The human psyche cannot reconcile the presence of constant excruciating pain without the ability to somehow alleviate it—even through death. Perhaps one of the greatest ironies of man is that his capacity to feel pain seems to be as limitless as his desire to inflict it.
The boy has held nothing back. He has even made up hundreds of details just to have something to say. At this point, he will tell his interrogators whatever they want to hear: confess to any crime; denounce or swear his allegiance to any nation; inform on anyone he has ever met, and even those he has not. His interrogators frankly don’t care if what he is saying is true or not because everything is cross-referenced, corroborated, and eventually either verified or disproved. It is less important that Andre tells only the truth than it is that he keeps talking. It is better to have an abundance of ambiguous information from which the truth can be distilled than it is to risk missing even a single key element.
Most of his interrogations start out with a review of what they believe to be true:
INTERROGATOR: What is your name?
STRASSER: Andre Strasser.
INTERROGATOR: How old are you?
STRASSER: Fourteen.
INTERROGATOR: Where were you born?
STRASSER: West Baltimore.
INTERROGATOR: Who is your mother?
STRASSER: Laticia Martin.
INTERROGATOR: Where is she?
STRASSER: She was killed in a raid on a drug lab outside of Washington D.C.
INTERROGATOR: Who is your father?
STRASSER: Donte Strasser.
INTERROGATOR: Where is he?
STRASSER: I don’t know. Either dead or homeless.
INTERROGATOR: When did you leave Baltimore?
STRASSER: I’m not sure. I think between nine months and a year ago.
INTERROGATOR: Why did you leave Baltimore?
STRASSER: I got recruited.
INTERROGATOR: By whom?
STRASSER: Alexei Drovosek.
INTERROGATOR: Is Alexei Drovosek an American citizen?
STRASSER: I don’t know.
INTERROGATOR: Do you think Alexei Drovosek is an American citizen?
STRASSER: No.
INTERROGATOR: What do you believe Alexei Drovosek’s nationality to be?
STRASSER: Russian.
INTERROGATOR: Have you ever heard Alexei Drovosek referred to as “the Lion” or “Woodcutter” or “Tin Man”?
STRASSER: No.
INTERROGATOR: Have you ever heard Alexei Drovosek referred to by any other names?
STRASSER: No.
INTERROGATOR: Why did Alexei Drovosek recruit you?
STRASSER: He wanted me to compete in a tournament.
INTERROGATOR: What kind of tournament?
STRASSER: A game called Mechs and Drones.
INTERROGATOR: Did Alexei Drovosek ever mention Freetown or New Guangdong?
STRASSER: Yes.
INTERROGATOR: Which name did he use to refer to it?
STRASSER: Both.
INTERROGATOR: Did he tell you that he intended to interfere with the political situation in Sierra Leone?
STRASSER: Yes.
INTERROGATOR: Did he instruct you to directly interfere with the protests in Sierra Leone?
STRASSER: No.
INTERROGATOR: Did you make the decision to interfere on your own?
STRASSER: Yes.
INTERROGATOR: Is Alexei planning on interfering in the upcoming presidential election?
STRASSER: I don’t know.
INTERROGATOR: Is Alexei Drovosek currently plotting against the United States government?
STRASSER: I don’t know.
INTERROGATOR: Do you believe Alexei Drovosek to be under the influence of any foreign governments?
STRASSER: I don’t know.
INTERROGATOR: Do you believe Alexei Drovosek is under the influence of any radical factions?
STRASSER: I don’t know.
INTERROGATOR: Do you believe Alexei Drovosek to be an enemy of the United States?
STRASSER: Yes.
INTERROGATOR: Where does Alexei Drovosek live?
STRASSER: I don’t know.
INTERROGATOR: Why don’t you know?
STRASSER: He made sure I never knew where I was.
INTERROGATOR: Do you believe that Alexei Drovosek lives either in or close to the city of Los Angeles?
STRASSER: Yes.
INTERROGATOR: What is the shortest amount of time it has ever taken you to get from a location you knew to be in downtown Los Angeles to Alexei Drovosek’s home, or from his home to a location you knew to be in downtown Los Angeles?
STRASSER: About an hour.
INTERROGATOR: What was the longest amount of time?
STRASSER: About two hours.
INTERROGATOR: Tell me about Alexei Drovosek’s home.
STRASSER: It looks old, but it’s new.
From there, the questions focus on increasingly specific details about the house. How many rooms are there? What is the approximate layout? How much of the house is below ground? How many people live there? Do planes ever fly overhead? What do the planes look and sound like? How often do they fly over? Are there any other sounds audible from inside or outside the house? How big is the lot the house is on? How many other structures are on the property? Can you see any other structures from anywhere on the property? Has he ever seen or heard a lake, stream, or river nearby? Are there any distinctive smells in or around the house? What kinds of trees are on the property? What kinds of animals and insects has he seen? What does it sound like at night? Describe how the shadows change throughout the day. In what direction does the wind
usually blow? How does the water taste? Is there mineral buildup around the sink and shower faucets? How often has it rained since he’s been there? Has the power ever flickered or gone out, and if so, approximately when and for how long? Are there generators on the property? And so on.
Andre does not know how to play this game. He doesn’t know if he should try to convince them that he has told them everything he knows so that he might be transferred to a different kind of facility, or if his life depends on them believing that there are still details he has not yet revealed. He can’t tell if they will kill him when they decide he is no longer of any use, and he is not even certain that he wants to live.
Military black sites are designed to be unpredictable, but they’re never surprising. The methods by which fear, humiliation, and despair are induced might change day to day, but the emotions themselves become as familiar to prisoners as their homes and families and friends once were. The lack of routine becomes a routine in and of itself, and disorientation and confusion become the new state of normalcy. Once prisoners have finally let go of their dignity and self-respect, they become resistant to even the most novel forms of demoralization, and when all hope of calm and clarity and safety is sufficiently abandoned, the only peace left to be had is in death—yet even that their keepers allocate with cruel and reluctant discrimination.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Florian Lasker’s last promotion elevated him to the position of chief hiring officer for all of Pearl Knight Holdings and the entirety of its divisions and subsidiaries. He likes to think of his job as the most complex chess match ever played—one with hundreds of players and thousands of pieces played across a highly dynamic and multidimensional board. Recently he has begun tossing around the term “fractal chess” to describe what it is he does; he does not simply play a single match culminating in whatever election he is preparing for, but rather he engages in games within games within games, all at some level related to one another, the stakes and purses forever compounding, the results of one entire match equating to nothing more than a single move in the larger game containing it. The match Florian is playing this morning will not only determine whether his team wins the next match, but whether he will emerge as the victor among his own contingent.
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