by Hylton Smith
*
“Julien Delacroix!” exclaimed Kolorov, “I could never have expected to hear from you again, especially after we played dirty with your Mars project…well, you know what I mean. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’m not sure I’d call it a pleasure, Ivan. But, it is about time those of us responsible for stopping this damned rock from eating the human race actually cooperated. Time is short and that is the very least we owe to the species. I’m sure I could learn from the mistakes Soyuz made with their attempt. Even if it was indeed a software error, the language of your explanation didn’t really stack up in my humble opinion. You were responsible for the mission and yet here you are, still running things.”
“Aha, now I get it, you don’t have any evidence to contradict our detailed findings, and you are shitting yourself in case you make the same mistake.”
“No, no, listen very carefully, Ivan. I’m not asking for your help, I’m insisting that you do as I say before it’s too late to save your lousy skin.”
“Are you threatening me? I do not have time for…”
“Shut up and take your mind back to Volker Brandt’s flight deck. You quite sensibly asked me to trash the whole system when you left VB Aerospace, and I agreed. But somehow I never got around to it.”
“Yes you did, your mission operations director confirmed it to me after you finished the job. Nice try.”
“I think he might have told you we had dismantled it and bricked up the office, but that is only half true. I neglected to dismantle any of it. That would have been a dangerous move, someone involved could have discovered exactly what was buried in that system, and we couldn’t have that, could we, Ivan? So, I just mothballed it…well, until now.”
The line went dead and a slow smile spread across Julien’s face.
*
Eugene’s research had led him to a mixture of expected results and mind-blowing discoveries. His cross-expertise teams had quickly ruled out certain project avenues with high work input for marginal gains, and the ambitious original list of potential targets had been systematically crunched down to fit the ever-diminishing time constraint.
He had been personally involved with the work on project ‘Genetic Scissors’. Several generations of rats had been studied following the results of cutting out gene segments and stitching in replacements. The criteria for judging success or failure was kept simple because of difficulty in assigning behavioural scores. Subjectivity could not be wholly factored out; they were dumb animals and didn’t have opinions, nevertheless differences did emerge. There was a definite trend, and it was found in those individuals which had the most seriously aberrant behaviour characteristics prior to the procedure. Cured was a word which Eugene refused to acknowledge at this stage; he preferred ‘assisted’ until he could begin tests on human volunteers. In contrast, within the mini-societies of rats with untreated individuals, fighting and tension remained prevalent, impacting group behaviour in a confined space dramatically, often to the point of killing and cannibalism.
Sophie had been kept abreast of this work and typically became impatient, insisting that she should be the first human volunteer.
“All in good time, sis,” said Eugene, “we have to try to structure balanced but different groups. This is necessary for the interpretive stage of the outcome of every mini-society. We can’t expect to harness humans to little ‘closed’ societies as we did with the rats. The makeup of the subjects given or not given the treatment is much more important than with animals. We certainly don’t want to lock a few of you in cages with a bunch ‘norms’ and tell you all to mind your manners! The interpretation of results with humans is going to be difficult simply because they are humans. And just think about it, I can’t warn the others in your group, for example, otherwise they might become self-harmers!”
“Ha, bloody ha, Gene. ‘All in good time’ is bullshit, we don’t have the luxury of time. Like, who is going to care if people get pissed off with things just a couple of days before we all become nature’s little atoms again? Get a move on, brother. Otherwise it will all be for nothing. Just don’t put me in your group, I’d rather go with the assisted rats.”
*
“Hello, Julien.” There was resignation in Kolorov’s voice. “I finally tracked down your former ops director of communications. So, I suppose I have to listen to you after all. The cretin could only confirm that Brandt’s flight deck had been bricked up. He could not comment on whether the equipment had been decommissioned or moved. My fault for relying on amateurs, however, I need to see the kit myself before agreeing to anything you have in mind. Don’t take down the wall until I get there tomorrow, otherwise I will know this is a bluff. Do we agree?”
“Of course. You’re the untrustworthy swine in this saga, and I’d anticipated some response like this. We can break down the wall together. There is a condition from my side as well. You come alone, and you had better bring all relevant data from the analysis of the disaster. I want to see exactly why missile number three detonated. It had better be good, Ivan. Unless I’m totally satisfied, you’ll be unemployed. That isn’t a nice prospect in Russia these days, what with the remains of the mafia and anarchists on your case. The safest place for you to be is right here. See you tomorrow.”
*
Reuben Alvarez was born to Mexican parents, both of whom had tragically died in a high speed train crash which claimed the lives of over one hundred people. He’d been split up from his siblings at the tender age of seven. His two elder brothers had been placed in an orphanage, and his younger sister had been the subject of a painfully long adoption procedure to an American family. Reuben was taken in by an uncle, whose own family consisted of four girls and a single boy. It wasn’t a particularly happy time for him. He was old enough to feel intense grief at the loss of his mother and father, but too immature to realise he would never see his sister again. His uncle also made sure he didn’t visit the orphanage, as he deemed Reuben’s elder brothers to be a bad influence on the boy. Nevertheless, Reuben began to feel that he would never really be accepted by the wife of his uncle, and consequently he was starved of real love.
As soon as he was old enough, he left his surrogate family, having qualified as a junior architect. He’d always dreamed of space travel, aliens, and UFOs, and his grades were good enough to land a position in the company Sophie had chosen to build the Delacroix residence. In sharp contrast to her, he was extremely easy going. Despite this he exhibited a very keen attention to detail, and this was the forum in which they met, clashed, and ultimately developed deep mutual respect. Reuben was a competent rather than a gifted artist and so they had much to learn from one another. His ability to become a buffer between the senior architect and Sophie kept the project on track and avoided many heated arguments. He became adept at heading off many bitter, entrenched situations of impasse. One particular debate encapsulated their burgeoning personal bond. A shouting match had erupted over the colour of a section of the atrium which was to be rendered. The senior architect insisted that Sophie’s choice would not be accepted by the planning authority. She was unmoved, and stated that the planning people were nothing more than talking rule books. Reuben had noticed that the architect had often exhibited signs of defective colour vision and suggested all three of them took a test to determine their scores. Sure that they were both right, the antagonists agreed. When the architect was declared blue-green deficient and Sophie was not, the spat was extinguished amicably. The roots of a special relationship were evident.
Chapter 26
Grigori’s lawyer had not made further contact and Kolorov was getting twitchy, but had no intention of making the next move, even though he was about to head off to see Julien Delacroix. His brinkmanship paid off, yet he decided to push it to the limit. The lawyer finally phoned to ask if he could come and see him again, but this time alone. Kolorov gave him a time ultimatum of his self-discharge from hospital. After that, the offer would be withdrawn. The la
wyer said he would be there in under thirty minutes. He arrived with a pile of papers.
“I need to make you aware of a couple of sticking points with your proposal. They are minor items but they must be attended to if the transfer is to satisfy the financial regulators. It will not take long.”
“I would ask you to take a seat, but you are correct, this will not take long. You represent the interests of a murdered oligarch’s son. He, Grigori, wants this to happen. I told him when he first came to see me that his request would be quite a difficult one to execute. That is why I sent him to see you. That is what you get paid for is it not? I could not care less if the deal collapses, but I would if I was in your position. These oligarchs look after their own, and you may be unknowingly placing yourself in the firing line. If this is just about your cut, I would resist getting too greedy. Just take less and make these sticking points go away. You need to be aware that I leave for the other side of the world in two hours, and the outcome of that meeting could have serious consequences, one of which would prohibit me from acting on behalf of Soyuz any longer, so I am afraid you have to make up your mind.”
“I see. In that case I will delete the relevant points and find a way of getting the young man to safety with his money. Can you please look over the agreement and sign if you are happy with it?”
“Of course. If I may offer you another piece of advice, you would be well advised not to ask Grigori where he intends to become invisible. His family should do the same. Finally, there will be no financial regulators to worry about in two years’ time unless some other organisation can derail the asteroid, so, I would not lose sleep over that. Perhaps you should worry more about traceability of your cut, or even whether you should take anything.”
The signed documents were exchanged and the lawyer shuffled uncomfortably out of Kolorov’s ‘office’.
*
As loathe as he was to divulge a confidence, Eugene decided to ask for his father’s opinion.
“Sophie has given me a hard time, she insists on being the first human volunteer to undergo the genetic ‘snip and restore’ technique. She’s in one of those moods, you know, when she won’t take no for an answer. I can see her point in some respects, but the work isn’t complete. It looks really promising, but it’s my sister for hell’s sake. What do you think, Dad?”
“Eugene, you’re asking someone who has totally screwed up his family life once already. I’m no oracle when it comes to stuff like this. I’m lucky to have a second chance and I’m sorry but I don’t want to influence you in coming to a decision. I’ll respect whatever you decide.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I shouldn’t be troubling you with this. Apart from trying to discuss this with her rationally, she has this young man Reuben supporting her. He’s a great kid, and he argues a good case without shouting and getting in a strop. Anyway, tell me, I haven’t pestered you in a while, but I need your honest opinion. Do you really believe we will knock the asteroid out of the equation? A hint would help, and it stays between us.”
“All I can say right now is that the launch project itself could not be going better, and the asteroid has not strayed significantly from its predicted trajectory. I’m confident in our ability to get everything under way on time and our electronic monitoring capability is vastly superior to anything I’ve ever seen before. There is another matter though. I have a visitor arriving shortly, you must remember Ivan Kolorov, the man who asked me to decommission the flight deck system?”
“Oh yes, the Russian, the one who used VB Aerospace to further his own future. Why in hell is he coming here?”
“I wanted him to know that his meteoric rise to power hinged on us burying the content of the flight deck data system. I can’t think of any other way to extort the truth from him about the Soyuz failure to influence the asteroid. I’ve studied the official explanation over and over, and it simply doesn’t make sense. I can’t rule out sabotage, Eugene, and that in my opinion is the greatest threat to our mission. There are many factions of the human race which don’t want to interfere in God’s great plan, you know, ‘everything happens for a good reason’. Kolorov isn’t one of them, indeed the Soyuz fleet may have been victim to such misguided terrorism. If that is the case, he must have a different story to tell. Let me speak with him before you make up your mind about Sophie’s treatment.”
“Shit! I had hoped you could make my decision clearer, I wasn’t expecting you to muddy the water. Can I be present during the discussion?”
“I was intending to invite you anyway. You convinced me not to trash the flight deck, remember? He will have to listen to the person who advised me at the time, and now I have my very own I.T. expert. Don’t worry, I have no intention of letting him know you’re my son.”
*
Julien’s mobile vibrated and flashed up Sophie’s picture. “Hi, honey, I’m just about to…”
“Listen, Dad, I came to Geraldine’s cottage to see Mum because she wasn’t in her own space. They had arranged to go shopping today and Mum asked if I wanted anything. I said I’d bring my list of stuff around before they left, but they aren’t here in the cottage and the place is in an almighty mess. It looks like a break-in, the rear door has been smashed in, all of the wardrobes and drawers have been emptied on to the floor. I can’t get either Mum or Geraldine on their phones, and anyway, they would never leave the place like this. I have informed the police, but they gave me some crap excuse for not coming after I told them there was no burglar on the premises. They’re a bunch of arseholes, so I think you should speak with them.”
“What? Ok, I’ll go to the station right away, meet me there. Were you late going around to the cottage? I mean, could they have left before the break-in?”
“No, I’m not late, they said they were leaving at eleven, and it’s just gone quarter to. Come on, Dad, don’t treat me like I’m spaced out or something, this just feels all wrong. I’m on my way to the station, see you there, just hurry.”
*
Kolorov was looking forward to the flight, but not the meeting. Fresh from hustling Grigori Malenkov’s lawyer into effectively making him the owner of Soyuz, he could now concentrate on turning the crosshairs on Julien Delacroix. The long journey would have been distracting even in first class seats of a commercial airline, but the private jet of the company was a different matter. It felt right, not having to justify such indulgence to anyone else for a change.
He relaxed with a glass of his favourite red wine, hoping that it would wash over his grey matter as well as the beluga caviar. He’d underestimated Julien, and experience taught him that there must be no repetition. The wrong kind of revelations would pretty much guarantee his exile from his homeland, or worse. A dignified burial plot with droves of pretend mourners.
His recollection of events just before he left VB Aerospace were pretty blurred, not least because of everything that had happened since. He had shafted so many people in his rise to the top that he only really remembered the most outstanding examples. Suddenly, this naïve anorak who studied the night sky and got his thrills from pulsars, quasars, and supernovae, was his single most fearsome opponent in the gladiatorial arena of winner takes all. He was struggling to pinpoint how Julien would come at him. Flexibility had to be the watchword until he had a handle on the parameters of manoeuvre he could bargain with. This would not be possible unless he could review all of the data supposedly retained on the flight deck. This, even if Julien agreed to it, would take a number of days or even weeks. How he could have done with his most faithful ally, Alexei Bondarenko, on such a tricky firefight.
*
Julien arrived at the police station and was met by Sophie and an officer who was taking her statement.
“It’s ok, Dad, there was a misunderstanding. Mum and Geraldine are in the next room. Apparently, they were strolling along the cliff at the front of Geraldine’s cottage at about nine o’clock this morning and they heard a lot of clattering and banging which seemed to be coming
from the cottage. As they turned back to see what was going on, they saw someone jump into a car which approached the building at a hell of a speed. The man threw something into the back of the car, got into the passenger seat and the driver sped off again. When Mum and Geraldine got back to the cottage, they saw it had been trashed and called the police. They were asked to come to the station to report the incident, and the police sent a car for them. They’ve been describing the man and the car, and also trying to think of anything that could have been stolen. They lost track of the time and forgot that I would be going around to the cottage at eleven. They were asked to switch off their phones while they were giving the statement. I got so angry with the officer on the phone when he asked if the burglar was there, but the poor guy thought the perpetrator must have come back when I was reporting the break-in for a second time.”
“Well, thankfully they are both ok, I was beginning to imagine all kinds of things. So, has anything been taken?”
“They don’t know for sure, but they checked the place while they were waiting for the police to arrive and they couldn’t say that anything was missing. It’s weird.”
“So, it’s just damage to the property itself…that is strange, especially when the guy who broke in had an accomplice ready to come and pick him up. It sounds like they were looking for something specific. I think we should help Geraldine to go over the place again, very thoroughly. The burglars, if that’s what they were, must have either known the place was going to be empty or they were just chancers, looking for signs of easy pickings.”
“Yeah, maybe, but if that was the case, Geraldine has lots of stuff which is worth taking, but most of it was just left lying on the floor.”
