by Robert Graf
"Remember what I told you? Guess who's the first person they're going to want to interview?"
Oh shit. She sat down and stared at the article. "I did it again. I’m impulsive, I trust my instincts, they're usually correct, though explaining why has caused me problems. It was a major point of contention between Jon and me. He was the methodical one; I was leaps and bounds ahead of him, though eventually he'd agree with me."
She drank more coffee and brooded. "I meant what I said. This whole mess we're in is like a festering boil, and I want to lance it, pop it open. When ‘they’ call, whoever ‘they’ is, I'll answer their questions. You want to be around?"
Alex took her hand and squeezed it. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. I've been living a comfortable existence for the last several years, but since meeting you, that's all changed, and other than a few problems, it's been fun."
She snorted. "Problems? Like being blown up?" She gazed into his good eye. "You have a strange sense of humor." She swallowed the last dregs of coffee. "Bacon and eggs OK? I'm famished."
"Sounds great."
While she prepared breakfast, he perused the NASA rumor on his tablet. Soon the delicious smell of frying bacon filled the kitchen. Several minutes later she served them at the table, and they ate in companionable silence.
"Don't you get a paper?" Alex asked, "I miss the comics. Even in the field I get a paper wherever I'm staying."
She shook her head. "I canceled it weeks ago. You'll have to get your fix online."
"It’s not the same," he grumbled.
She finished her coffee. "I have to go into the City to sign papers about stock options and insurance. I should be back early afternoon." She checked the wall clock. "Ellen should be here around 09:00, so I need to get ready. Think you can clean up?"
"I'll manage."
She left him to it and padded back to the bedroom. She puzzled over the few clean outfits in her closet before deciding on the blue business suit. Never know who she had to impress when wandering the halls of corporate.
Alex came in as she finished putting on her makeup and stretched out on the bed reading news feeds on his tablet.
In the living room she brought up the Viewer for the front camera. At 09:00 precisely Ellen drove up in a Toyota hybrid and parked behind the van. "I'm leaving," she called.
"Drive carefully," he answered as she activated the alarm system and closed the front door.
"How are we doing today?" Ellen asked, pulling away from the curb.
"Better." She didn't feel like chatting, but she tried being polite. "This is a different car from the other day."
"Yes. We switch between several. Keeps people guessing. Where in the City are we going?"
"To corporate headquarters, there's paperwork I have to sign. On the way back I'd like to shop for some clothes for Alex."
"No problem."
The drive down 101 was uneventful with light traffic until they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. Ann directed Ellen to the private garage beneath the Global Communication building. She had to argue with the guard before he let her inside and park in her reserved spot. Threatening to call MacDougal did the trick.
The security guards refused to issue Ellen a temporary badge unless she surrendered her semi-automatic. Ann called Ian.
“No, Ann. Absolutely no guns allowed.”
Ellen gave up her pistol, and everyone was satisfied.
Ann was getting fed up with all the security, and in the elevator vented to Ellen. "What a pain. I get so sick and tired of it."
Ellen smiled. "Actually, the security here is simple, not lax, just not as thorough as we prefer. For instance, you can get off at any floor. We'd have an elevator guard to prevent that."
Ann scowled. "I understand the necessity, do I ever, but I hate it."
They got off at the Administration floor. Ann left Ellen in the foyer while she tended to her paperwork. An hour later her bank account was fatter by a million from the insurance. She exercised the stock options and blinked at the total —5.5 million. The sale would complete in three business days.
Ann asked about the sales commission. The HR manager didn't know anything about it. She had to produce Hooper’s note before the manager agreed to credit her next, last paycheck; the manager didn't know how much was involved. Getting her health coverage transferred to a COBRA account was akin to pulling teeth. Arguments were useless until she convinced the manager to call the engineering VP who authorized the change.
Ellen was reading a magazine when Ann returned. "I need to see MacDougal, “she told her, pressing the UP button. Ellen stood and followed her into the elevator. The doors closed and they were smoothly carried upward to the senior management level. Wasn’t there something about septic tanks, the biggest pieces rose to the top? She grinned.
They exited into a blue-carpeted hallway lined with richly polished wooden doors bearing brass name plates. There were no chairs or tables with magazines for visitors; either you had business here or you didn't. "You'll have to wait here," Ann told Ellen. "I shouldn't be long."
"Right, I'll be fine."
Ann strode down to Ian's door, pushed it open and stepped inside. She noted the digital picture frame showed a different bird from her last visit. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelf was full, so he hadn't begun packing.
Ian was seated behind his broad oak desk, the windows letting in bright morning sunlight behind him. He had dark circles under his eyes. "You're looking better. How do you feel?"
"I feel better, but you don't look so hot. What's up?" she asked, settling into the visitor's chair.
His mouth tightened in disgust. "Roger’s is back to his old self. We’ve had meeting after meeting revising budgets."
"Sounds awful. Hear any more from Farid?"
"No, I assume he's with his brother. You might be interested to know that Hooper signed off building an EntCom system for the Vatican." He studied her. "How did you do it?"
Rumors travel awful fast. "I had nothing to do with it, well not much. I guess I impressed Isaac's boss who's a mucky-muck in the Curia."
"Hope you get something out of the deal. I hear you're leaving?"
"Yes, effective Tuesday. I'm burnt out, there's nothing here for me anymore. I don't remember if I told you, Jon's memorial service is Saturday."
Ian's expression turned grim. "Too many bloody funerals. Besides Doug’s, I just attended a combined service for Ricardo and Craig. I'll be at Jon's." His gaze sharpened. "According to the paper, there almost was another one."
She'd forgotten to tell him. "I feel bad. I forgot about their services, didn't even send a card. Shit, Ian, there's too much happening; I've gotta get away. And yes, the hospital was a very near thing. Winslow's not telling me much. Have you heard anything about who's after me and why?"
He shook his head. "We know why, but who? Nothing on my end. Remember the company Roger bought that manufactures that exotic matter? There was an abortive bombing attempt, no one hurt, just minor damage to the building."
God, would it never end? "Moshe's alright?"
"You know him? Yes, I had warned him, and he apparently took my advice." He let out a long, tired sigh. "I expect to hear from Roger about the extra cost. I'm tired, Ann, I'm going to move up my resignation date."
That self pity wasn't like Ian. It made him seem weak and indecisive. She snorted, was she any different? Nobody was trying to kill him. “On another topic, I came across a rumor on NothingButTruth that NASA's Jupiter ship was sabotaged. You might find it interesting."
Ian laughed. "Never a dull moment around you. When should I expect the FBI to come snooping around?"
She gave him her best imitation of pure innocence. "I have no idea."
"I'll pretend surprise." His expression sobered. "If sabotage, that suggests someone with a goal independent of the bastards who've attacked us. Whoever leaked that rumor had better be careful." He stared at her, "Very careful."
"Yes. Well, I need to be going. Please let me know
when your last day is."
Ian smiled wearily. "I will. Take care of yourself."
She closed the door and returned to the elevators and the patient Ellen.
A traffic jam north of San Rafael delayed them, and it was lunch time before Ellen exited to downtown Petaluma. Ann directed her to a deli in mid town where they ordered sandwiches to go. Afterward they stopped at the Brooks Brothers further up the street. She vacillated about getting pants, shirts and underwear and decided against it, that was too much mothering. Instead she purchased a dark blue bathrobe and gray sweats. Ellen was her constant shadow.
"I'm home," she announced pushing the door closed with her foot, her arms full of packages and bagged lunches. No answer. She reset the alarm without spilling anything.
"Alex?" No answer. She dropped the packages, ran to the closed bedroom door and yanked it open. He lay in bed, in her old robe, propped up against the back board by large pillows, his eye blinking slowly, unfocused.
Her heart thudded against her chest. “Alex, what's wrong?”
"I must have fallen asleep." He yawned. "I think it's those damn pills. My hand hurt like hell, so I took two and lay down. What time is it?"
"Near one," she answered, relief flooding through her.
"I've been out for four hours?" He yawned again.
"Yeah, sleepy head. How about lunch?"
"Let me get the cobwebs out first."
She retrieved the packages and lunch bags and returned. "Here, I got something to replace that hideous robe." She placed the packages on his lap. "I'll see you in the kitchen, don't be long."
She plated the sandwiches, poured two glasses of water from the refrigerator door and placed everything on the table.
Alex wandered in, dressed in new gray sweats and sat at the table.
"That’s an improvement. I'll pitch that old robe in the trash."
"I have to admit, this is much better, but," he pointed to his empty sweatshirt sleeve, “Can you pin this up?"
Damn, she didn't have sewing anything, no safety pins, nothing. She rummaged through the everything drawer until she located a large paperclip and secured the sleeve. "Let's eat."
She devoured the beef sandwich minutes ahead of Alex.
He finished and pushed his plate away. "Good choice. So did you get your papers signed?"
"Yes. As of now I've got one million in the bank and another five and a half on the way."
His good eye widened. "What you expected, still it's incredible. You intend to build another device?"
"Yes, It'll take most of the money.” That and the security.” Want to help?"
He squinted at her. "I've no money."
She smiled. "No, silly, I mean help putting it together."
"I'd like that; I have no Idea what it is you actually do, so this will help me understand." He smiled, "Well, a little anyway." His phone began playing High Noon, and he lifted it from his sweatpants pocket. "Yes? Right, thank you."
"That was Collette. Lynn's here with my things. I forgot she called after you left." He stood and strode into the living room as the door bell rang.
Ann remained seated.
"You said a little accident,” a young woman's horrified voice protested. “And what's with the armed guard?"
"In a minute. Come in, I want you to meet Ann. You can leave the bags."
Ann stood. Ready or not…
His daughter, dressed in jeans, a white blouse, and wearing sandals, stepped warily into the kitchen. There was no question which parent she favored. Ann held out her hand; Lynn shook it without smiling.
"I'm very glad to meet you. Please have a seat. Would you like tea or coffee or...?"
"Tea, please."
"Alex?"
"Sure."
Ann fired up a burner under the teapot.
"Your face, Dad. Were you in a fire?"
Alex looked at her for help, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Lynn was his daughter.
"It was a letter bomb to Ann.”
"Jesus Christ, Dad!" Lynn shouted. She turned a furious gaze on Ann. "You, Ann, what have you gotten him into?"
That was enough drama. "Your father saved my life. He slapped it away just as I opened it. His hand was badly injured, but he will recover its use. The facial burns will heal though some skin grafts may be necessary." She handed cups of hot tea to Alex and his upset daughter and took a cup for herself. "You should be proud of him."
"Drink your tea," Alex told his daughter who stood juggling the cup.
Ann prepared to dodge.
"Ouch," Lynn said and hastily set the cup down on the counter. "I apologize," she added in a quieter voice. "I'm upset."
"Ann was also injured; shrapnel in her face, hands and legs."
Lynn peered at Ann, for the first time taking in the small cuts on her face and the bandages on her hands. Ann watched her as she took a seat next to Alex..
"OK, I get the guard, but why? Who are you anyway?" Lynn asked, taking a small sip.
What should she say? Alex didn't know everything, not by a long shot. "I'm a physicist studying quantum communications; you can find my work online. We, that is my deceased husband and I, invented the communication device on board NASA's Jupiter ship. For reasons my company and the FBI don't understand, someone has tried to destroy the devices and the inventors; I’m all that’s left. Your father and I met while all that was happening." She didn't add “and continues happening.”
Lynn's eyes widened. "FBI?"
That expression was so like her dad's. "Yeah. Enough about me. Alex tells me you're a newly-minted lawyer. What exactly do you do?" she asked, knowing the questioning was far from over.
"I've landed a job with a non-profit that helps small businesses get started, mostly in the Latino community."
"You speak Spanish?"
"Have to, though I'm far from fluent."
Ann glanced at Alex sipping his tea. He gazed back with a bland, non-committal expression. Later, she promised silently. He hid a fleeting grin.
"Do you take on other clients?"
Lynn’s gaze sharpened, "Such as?"
Go for broke. "Me. I'm resigning and intend to form a startup. My problem is there's a non-disclosure agreement that may interfere with my plans. Is that something you or your coworkers deal in?"
"Is this likely to end up in litigation?"
"I hope not, though my soon-to-be-ex company has lawyers to spare."
Lynn shook her head. “That’s not my expertise. I can ask more senior partners if you like.”
Did she? “I’ll wait and see what happens. Would you like to stay for supper?"
"I can't, I have to meet with a client this evening." Lynn took a deep breath. "Well, father, you've managed to shake me up enough for one day. Have you spoken with Elise?"
"Not yet. I'd appreciate it if you let me break the news to her first."
Lynn grinned. "You couldn't pay me to do that."
A problem? Ann wasn't about to ask. "I need to take care of a few chores myself." She smiled and held out her hand to Lynn, who hesitated before quickly shaking it. "Feel welcome to drop by anytime." She strode into the living room, grabbed her tablet from the coffee table and retreated to her office/spare bedroom. Father and daughter needed to talk without her around.
Her chores were to call her parents and Jon's and inform them about the memorial service. She'd gotten sidetracked and nearly waited too long. Her parents could fly up and rent a car. His would drive, she supposed, since Santa Maria wasn't that far. Who else would show up? Ian probably, maybe other co-workers? They had professional acquaintances though no real close friends, so her best guess was a very small gathering, which suited her. A disturbing thought occurred to her: What if one of Jon’s girlfriends attended?
[Friday Petaluma]
After breakfast, Alex retired to the bedroom to rest while Ann cleaned up. She worried about his hand; it caused him great pain, and he needed the Vicodin to sleep. What did the doctor say? She'd rebuilt the ha
nd minus the little finger, and it would be awkward to use even after therapy. Don't dwell on it; take it one day at a time. At least the swelling and redness had faded from his face. She dreaded seeing the bandages removed from the other half. And what about his mental well-being? Was he trying to be too macho?
Her phone chirped. She dried her hands and picked it up. The Engineering VP? What’s he want?
"Dr. Grey, how are you this morning?"
"Fine, thank you, Mr. Lipsom."
"First, please accept my deepest condolences on your husband's death. It was a great shock to all of us."
She gritted her teeth. "Thank you."
"As Mr. MacDougal no doubt has informed you, engineer Sawalha has been found safe in England and the prototype recovered, which is why I called. The American Embassy has it, waiting for Global to arrange shipping. Frankly, I have no use for it now that a production version has been tested and is in the field performing flawlessly. I'm willing to sign it over to you, otherwise I'll have them junk it. It's really yours anyway, and the technology is too old. Are you interested?"
She nearly dropped the phone. "Yes, sir, I'm interested. Do you have any estimate of the shipping cost?" She didn't care what it cost.
"A few thousand euros."
She let several seconds pass to catch her breath. "I think I can manage that. How do we proceed?"
"You contact the Embassy and make the arrangements. I'll send the authorization to transfer ownership and put the particulars in an internal email; should be in your inbox within the hour."
"That should be fine. Is there anything else?"
"No, Dr. Grey. Again, please accept my sincere sympathy."
Ann stood with the phone dangling from her hand, letting the enormity of what happened sink in. She wanted to shout for joy, but kept quiet to not wake Alex. Ship it to SFO. She could rent a van and pick it up.
This changed everything. She didn't need NASA and all the complications that entailed; she could start her research months early. The potential fatal flaw was the entanglement. No matter, she'd deal with that. Maybe the re-entanglement trick she'd pulled off in Oregon would work.
