by Robert Graf
Ian's expression softened. "We'll have to do better than that. The FBI extracted some images from the lab's outside camera. A segment showed you on your bike next to a Honda, talking to the driver. The face is blurred. They’re going to run it through their forensics lab to enhance it and run it against their face recognition database. We might get lucky."
"How should we start?"
"I can't go on calling it ‘your machine’, how about Clio."
"CLEO, the particle detector?"
He gave her a disgusted look. "Your education is sadly lacking, that’s C.L.I.O. In Greek mythology, Clio is the muse of history; she could see the past, though sometimes she made up stories."
Ann didn’t care for the last part. "Out here in the colonies we've learned to study practical subjects such as quantum chromo dynamics."
They laughed.
Ian continued. "Seriously, have you tried a systematic search? Start with general questions, then get more specific until you've found whatever you're after."
"Only in a cursory manner. I've concentrated on learning the grammar rules. If fuzzy logic is involved, all bets are off.”
Ian frowned. “Whatever. We need to test the limits, determine how general a query can be before the answers become useless. We can use the Web as a check."
"That's sort of what I did."
"Did that work?"
She remembered her search for Allen Summers and the shocking result. "Yes."
He stared at her. "I see." He turned his tablet toward her, tapped an icon, and a list popped up. "This is what I think we know."
Ann studied the list:
Dr. Ann Grey observed an old Honda near lab on Sunday morning and
spoke with the mustached driver
Driver used southern California slang 'the 101'
Lab destroyed early next Friday morning
A van full of explosives destroyed the lab
The van detonated remotely (no body parts found)
Two guards killed
EntCom survived
No one has claimed responsibility
"This led me to a few tentative conclusions: One, you and your husband were not the target, the EntCom was, implying direct knowledge of your discovery; Two, at least one of the perpetrators lived long enough in southern California to acquire the local slang; Three, it was rapidly executed. I'm assuming the trigger was your discovery, so two weeks total; Four, this was a sophisticated operation requiring skill and practice.”
"You think any of the techs or Farid deliberately talked? You've mentioned industrial espionage. Does that usually involve murder?"
"It can. In all probability it was just pub talk, someone chatting with his mates or family talk at supper. If espionage, it's simply money. It's the motive that disturbs me most."
"Fear," she said without thinking. "Fear of losing control of..." She stopped. Of what? "I don't know, power?"
"Absolutely. Anyone with power, political or financial or military or whatever, resents any change that threatens that position. They'll try to control anything that drives change or failing that try to eliminate it.”
Exactly what Isaac said.
“You realize the FBI will question everyone.”
A cold knot gripped her stomach. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind. “Ian, I have a confession to make."
"You?" he asked, with a puzzled expression.
"I told an old friend about my discovery. He's a Jesuit at the Vatican," she said, dreading his reaction.
His eyes widened, and he began laughing until tears ran down his cheeks.
Ann stared in alarm. Where was the phlegmatic, stolid Englishman she'd come to depend on, even admire?
Ian wiped his eyes. "Stone me if we don't make a pair!"
His reaction made no sense. "What's wrong?"
"So did I."
What was he talking about? "Did what?"
His expression grew grim. "I told an old acquaintance about your discovery."
She felt her world turn upside down. "You?" She tried to absorb his words and failed. "You're head of security for Christ's sake, how could you?" She put her head in her hands; she wanted to scream.
“With your mod to Clio, we can eliminate our acquaintances as suspects."
She lifted her head. "God damn it, we may have killed the guards!"
He put a hand on her shoulder. "No, Ann, we didn't. I will find out who did, I swear it. Ann, please listen. When I was a young officer in Her Queen’s army in Afghanistan, I was accused of murdering civilians. I was only following what I thought were lawful orders. I was court-martialed, and, thank God, exonerated. The sole reason I got off was a senior officer intervened. I owed him my career and probably my life. I vowed to repay him.”
And she knew. “Swales.”
He didn’t act surprised. “Yes. You mind explaining why you told your friend?”
Ann hesitated then plunged ahead. “He helped me after I had a horrible breakup with a boyfriend in college. We became more than friends. That didn’t last, but I never forgot him.”
“The past doesn’t let go.”
She stared into his grey eyes. For her own sanity she had to believe him. A cold hard resolve settled over her tangled emotions. "All right, Ian, let's find the bastards. Me first." She sent "The Catholic Church did destroy Global Communication's lab in Petaluma." It failed. "Did not" passed. One down. "Your turn."
His face set in grim determination, Ian sent "Jonathan Swales did destroy Global Communication's lab in Petaluma". It began blinking. Ian changed 'did' to 'did not'. The message transmitted. He stared at her. "Do we believe Clio?"
Did she? "As I told Hooper, Jon and I tested thirty historical events, all passed. I successfully tested ten esoteric statements that my friend's superior formulated about Catholic history. I have to accept the results."
"My test about the stolen watch was judged correctly. I thought it was magic; now I’m more convinced than ever.”
“Damn it, Ian, it’s not magic!”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m no boffin. We’ll proceed, just keep in mind this is just a first pass, hardly definitive."
"I couldn't live with myself if I was the cause."
"Oh, but you can, you just wouldn't like yourself," he said with a sad smile. "So, next step. Let's go through the techs."
"Looking for what?"
"How about, 'Name did/did not tell friend/family about...'" He stopped. "What did you name your discovery?"
"Let's ask." She entered "Ann Grey did discover EntComs could tell truth from lies" and sent it without error.
She changed "did" to "did not", no error.
"What the hell?"
"Don't panic. I need to rephrase it." What had she tried with Jon? She typed "Ann Grey did discover EntComs could tell fact from non-fact" and sent it successfully, "did not" failed.
Ian toggled Reset. "Pilate was right."
She was getting annoyed with his obscure references. "Who?"
"Pontius Pilate, a Roman governor of Judea. Supposedly when Christ was brought before him, he asked Jesus, 'What is truth?'"
"Who knows? We’ll use 'fact from non-fact."
"Awkward, still it works." He brought up a list of names. "We'll start with your husband."
"Why bother? We discovered it."
"The question is did he tell others? You did."
She flushed, remembering Jon’s unstated confession.
Ian's suspicion about Jon proved correct. "Do you know who the friend might be?"
She glanced away. Pillow talk? "I assume it’s someone on the moon."
He gave her a shrewd look. "An old acquaintance?"
Several queries later they confirmed the friend was a woman stationed at the moonbase.
"That gets us nowhere," Ian grumbled.
“Why?”
“I’ve been monitoring our people on the moon.”
“You’re spying on us?” She felt betrayed.
“Ann, don
’t be naïve. You’re using corporate equipment. It’s part of my job. I'll go through the techs, sending 'did', and you send the opposite."
Ian went down his list of techs, and Ann re-sent each with "did not". Jon had two techs, and she had two plus Farid. According to Clio none had mentioned Ann's discovery to family or friend. Though awkward, switching back and forth was easier on her hand.
The techs were clean.
"Now the engineer," Ian said, typing "Farid Sawalha". "I hope that's good enough. If we need his full name, we'll have to ask him."
"Why? Just use the name in the company records."
"Arab names aren't given/middle/family, that's a Western convention."
Both "did" and "did not" passed.
"Bugger all," Ian bitched. He changed the name to Farid Al-Sawalha and repeated the statement.
Several tries later they determined Farid had told his brother.
"We don't know his brother's name," Ann pointed out, watching impatiently while Ian tapped commands on his tablet.
"Got him," he replied. "His next-of-kin is his brother, Hana, and he lives in Cairo. Now we do the same search on the brother."
Hana had told a friend or friends about Ann's discovery. "But we don't know who," she complained.
“That’s the frustrating part. I rang Swales and bluntly asked him if he was responsible. He denied it, and Clio supports that, but did he tattle?”
"Did" worked. "Shite, could be anyone. One more. We mustn't forget our illustrious leader."
"Hooper? He's the last one to divulge anything."
"I mean to be thorough."
Hooper apparently told no one.
Ian sighed in frustration. “By my reckoning, Farid’s brother’s mates and Swales’ associates are the most likely.”
“What do we do about it?”
“Fuck knows! Tell the authorities, I suppose. There’s bog all chance of anyone believing us.”
His expression alarmed her. She glanced at the wall clock, past noon. "Let's get some lunch."
Ian begged off, he had other issues.
She drove back to town, glad the rain had let up, though clouds blocked the sun. The morning’s efforts excited and frightened her. How in heaven's name does this work? Ian’s conclusion of magic upset her, and she refused to accept that. Why was even more mysterious. She needed to clear her head and let her mind sift through the data. Many's the time she'd awakened in the middle of the night with answers to problems that had thwarted her for weeks. She prayed this time would be no different.
After an unsatisfactory lunch she stopped at the reception desk. "Any messages?" she asked.
Doris inspected the mail slots. "No, Mrs. Grey. Earlier a woman called and asked to leave a phone message. When I connected her to your room, she hung up."
Ann stiffened. "Did you give her my room number?"
Doris sniffed, offended. "We never give out guest information."
"Did she identify herself?"
"No."
Better tell Ian. She hurried out of the lobby and up the stairs to her room. Before opening her door she slowly examined the rain-soaked hotel grounds. No one. Still she worried.
Inside, she shed her jacket and called Ian.
"Yes, Ann, what is it?"
"Registration told me a woman wanted to leave a message but hung up when she was connected to my room."
Silence.
"Ian?"
"Stay in your room until I get there. Don't go outside for any reason, and don't answer the room phone. I'll be there in a few minutes."
Her stomach knotted. "You're scaring me."
"Don't panic. I'll be right there." He disconnected.
Easy for him to say. She sat down in the lounge chair to wait and didn't open the window curtains or turn on the TV.
A quiet "Ann, it's Ian," roused her. It sounded like him, but...
"Who's Roger?"
"Our CEO. Now let us in."
She opened the door.
Ian faced her while Allan stood to Ian's side, facing outward. "Inside," Ian snapped, stepping into her room. Allan followed, shutting the door.
She felt a surge of relief and smiled nervously. "What's going on?"
"Someone’s trying to locate you. The phone call is an old trick; ring every inn around hoping for a hit. Simple but effective." He stared at her. "I 'm calling this operation off and sending you home."
"How did they know to look here?"
"I probably told the realtor too much, and I had to arrange payment." He sighed. “You can’t hide in today’s connected world.”
"Ian, what do you fear, and don't bullshit me."
"Someone wants the prototype. That someone knows you and your husband built it. Also they know, or will find out, your old lab is destroyed. I don't think they’re the ones who did it. They might settle for just the prototype, though if they're thorough, they'll want expertise to help them. That means you, your husband, or the engineer."
Ann felt cold inside. "Kidnapping?"
Ian nodded. "That's why I want you gone."
"You told me I couldn't hide, so what's the point? Anyway, NASA is using the production version, and they'll soon find out."
She noted Allan's sudden frown. He knew something was odd, but that was Ian's problem. "You should have named it Pandora." She closed her eyes. Accept the attack and become one with the opponent. Who is the opponent?
"Agreed. I'll leave for home right now. Let Hooper decide what to do. "
"Now you're making sense. I'll send Doug along, he'll tail you." He turned to Allan. "See to it."
Allan was already speaking into his phone.
"Ian, promise me you'll pull the guards and leave. Lock the doors, but no more deaths. Please."
He wouldn't meet her gaze. "I can't promise, Ann. It's my job."
She started to get angry. More of that male, macho crap. "Is it? Didn't you tell me it was war? That phone call convinced me, and I refuse to be Hooper's pawn. Don't you be one, either." Fight dirty. "Do you have a family? I never asked."
A sad expression flitted across his face. "We divorced years ago because she couldn't accept the risks of my profession. It's a common problem for blokes in my line of work."
She was weary of arguing. "I'm going to pack. Can you get us reservations at the Best Western in Yreka?"
“Yes.”
One more try. "Ian, please, let it go. I can always make another one."
"I'll take no unnecessary risks."
That's all the concession she'd get. She began to pack.
◆◆◆
Ann's gone, safe for now with Doug. He had the basic information they'd teased out of Clio, so what was his duty? Ann had the right of it, no more bodies.
"We're through here,” Ian told Allan and the younger Elgin. Pack your stuff, lock up and head back to the City."
"What about the dogs?" asked Allan.
Ian shook his head. It was time to retire. "Right, return them. I'll ask the sheriff to drop by every day or so."
"Are you coming with us?"
"No, I'll fly back. Any questions?"
"What about our bonuses?"
"I'll do my best, though it will be just for the time spent here."
Allan frowned. "We'd counted on more."
"I judge the threat level to be reduced now that Dr. Grey has left."
"You're the boss."
For now. He’d call Roger from the inn. He wouldn’t be happy.
Ian gazed at Roger's expression—barely suppressed rage. "You disobeyed my orders."
"My charge is security of facilities and personnel. The threat level is too great to risk any more people. There are at least two agencies actively after the EntCom technology. One would destroy it; the other's motive is unknown. I judged the threat to Dr. Grey to be imminent, and that's why I sent her back. It was not her choice."
"I pay you to take risks."
"Not unnecessary ones. That is my professional judgment." It's in your court, Ro
ger. A long silence ensued.
"Report to me as soon as you return." There was a click and the connection ended.
His phone showed eight thirty. He didn't want to catch a redeye and then have to face Roger. Anyway, Corvallis didn't have that many flights. A meal, sleep, and fly back in the morning.
[Thursday PM, Yreka]
Ann parked by the Best Western lobby. Doug parked beside her and immediately went inside. She got out and stretched, tired from the long drive, then scanned the parking lot —no Caltrans truck. She sighed in disappointment; she'd left voice mail. She entered the lobby to register, her hopeful mood squashed. "Reservation for Ann Grey," she told the desk clerk.
Behind her a familiar voice spoke, "So that's your name."
She whirled around, and there he stood, smiling. "Alex," she cried, fatigue forgotten. She was grinning like a fool but didn't care. "I worried when I didn't see your truck."
"I pulled in right behind you."
"Dr. Grey, who is this?" asked Doug, frowning.
Alex stepped away from her and eyed the much larger Doug.
Oh shit, what to do? Screw it, Ian doesn't run her life. "Alex, meet Doug. I guess you could call him my bodyguard. Doug, this is my friend, Alex. You two make nice."
Alex frowned before extending his hand. "Bodyguard? Where were you when she needed one?"
Doug warily shook the proffered hand. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She took Alex by the arm. "Leave it be."
"But, Ann..."
She squeezed his arm. "Please, not now." She gave him a mischievous grin. "Does my room have a king-sized bed?" she asked the clerk.
"No, ma'am. Do you want to upgrade?"
"Yes, please, and two keys," she replied. "Well, come on," she told Alex, who stared at her in surprise, "Get your things."
Alex shook himself and followed her out the door. "I'll see you in the morning," she called back to Doug. She handed Alex a key. "I'll see you upstairs."
Ann left her door ajar while unpacking her overnight bag. She wished she had a sexy negligee instead of her overlarge t-shirt. She smiled; she didn’t need one.
Alex carried his bag in and shut the door. "You're crazy, you know."
